CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(Monographs) 


ICIMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microraproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microreproductions  historiq 


ues 


TTTT 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 


[7f 


Coloured  covers  / 
Couverture  de  couleur 


□   Covers  damaged  / 
Couverture  endommag6e 

□   Covers  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Couverture  restaur6e  et/ou  pellicul6e 

I I   Cover  title  missing  /  Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

I I   Coloured  maps  /  Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 

□   Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

□   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
Planches  Pt/nn  illnetratinne  an  r^nntan 


D 
D 
D 


D 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material  / 
Reli6  avec  d'autres  documents 

Only  edition  available  / 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion  along 
interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serr6e  peut  causer  de 
I'ombre  ou  de  la  distorsion  le  long  6°  la  marge 
int^rieure. 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restorations  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have  been 
omitted  from  filming  /  II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages 
blanches  ajout6es  lors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissent  dans  le  texte,  mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  6t6  film6es. 


r~7j   Additional  comments  / 


Commenlaires  suppl6mentaires: 


Various  pagings. 


L'lnstitul  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  d6tails  de  cet  exem- 
plaire qui  sont  peut-6tre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduite, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modification  dans  la  m6tho- 
de  normale  de  filmage  sont  indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 

I ]  Coloured  pages  /  Pages  de  couleur 

I I   Pages  damaged  /  Pages  endommag6es 

□   Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Pages  restaur6es  et/ou  pellicul6es 

0  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
Pages  d6color6es,  tachet6es  ou  piqu6es 

[     I  Pages  detached  /  Pages  d6tach6es 

I  v/|   Showthrough  /  Transparence 

□   Quality  of  print  varies  / 
Quality  indgale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material  / 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl6mentaire 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata  slips, 
tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  totalement  ou 
partiellement  obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une 
pelure,  etc..  ont  6t§  film^es  k  nouveau  de  fafon  k 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 

Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
discolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant  ayant  des 
colorations  variables  ou  des  decolorations  sont 
filmdes  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la  meilleure  image 
possible. 


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D 
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This  item  Is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below  / 

Ce  dor:  iment  est  film*  au  taux  de  rMuction  indiqui  ci-dessous. 


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10x 

14x 

18x 

22x 

26x 

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20x           24x            28x 

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Th«  copy  film«d  h«f«  h«»  b—n  r«preduc«d  thanks 
to  the  e«n«resitv  of: 

Natioxial  Library  of  Canada 


L'axamplair*  fHm«  fut  raproduit  grica  i  la 
gin4rosit*  da: 

Blbllothaque  nationala  du  Caziada 


Tha  imagas  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
potiibia  conaidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  conuact  apacif ieaiiona. 

C.iginal  copioa  in  printed  paper  covars  ara  filnrtad 
beginning  with  tha  front  cover  and  ending  on 
tha  last  page  with  a  printed  or  Illustrated  impraa- 
sion.  or  tha  back  cower  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  begmnmg  on  tha 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion.  and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illuatratad  impression. 


Tha  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  — ^  •'"••"•"«  "S2.m' 
TINUEO"!.  or  tha  symbol  V  (meaning    tND  I. 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ara  filmed 
beginning  in  the  uppe.  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  Tha  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Las  imagas  suivantas  ont  *t*  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nanat*  da  I'exemplaire  film*,  et  en 
conformity  avac  lea  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 

Las  axemplalraa  originaux  dont  la  couverture  an 
pepier  eat  ImprimOa  sent  filmas  en  commencant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derni*re  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impraaajon  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  salon  la  eas.  Toua  lae  autras  axamplairas 
originaux  sont  film*s  an  commandant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impreasion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darniira  page  qui  cemporta  una  telle 
amprainta. 

Un  das  symbolaa  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
darni*ra  image  da  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  la  symbola  -^  signifia  "A  SUIVRE",  la 
symbolo  V  signifia  "FIN". 

Las  cartas,  planches,  ubieaux.  etc..  pauvant  atra 
filmis  *  das  Uux  da  reduction  diff Arents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clich*.  il  est  film*  A  partir 
da  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  drotte. 
at  da  haut  an  baa.  an  prenant  la  nombra 
d'imagaa  nAcassaira.  Lea  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrant  la  m«thoda. 


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MicRocorr  risoiution  test  chart 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


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1.25 


1 45 

15.0 


■  2.8 

■  12 

1 4.0 


IKbu 


1.4 


12.5 
2.2 

2.0 
1.8 


^  APPLIED  IM/IGE     Inc 

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"Peaches  wouldn't  take  a  stand-off 
so  I  put  her  wise."— Page  27 

I-'rontispiece 


I'M  FROM 
MISSOURI 

(They  Had  to  Show  Me) 
By  HUGH  McHUGH 


AUTHOR  OF 


JOHM  HBNRV,"   "down  THE   LINK   WITH  JOHN   MCNKV," 

"it's  «r  TO  vou,"  "back  to  thb  woods,"  "arr 
FOR  the  coin,"  "i  nbbd  the  monbv,"  etc. 


Illustrations  by  Gordon  H.  Grant 

G.  W.    DILLINGHAM   CO. 
PUBLISHERS  NEW  YO«K 


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Copyright,  1904 
Bv  G.  W.  Dillingham  Co. 

Issued  August,  1904 


[A/l  rights  restrved.} 


I'M  FROM  MISSOURI 


fl  rcinz 


■itiwmm>i^ 


2 


Dear  Friends: 

There  are  only  five  real  Knockers  in  the 
United  States. 

One  of  them  conducts  the  Oatmeal  col- 
umn on  a  Chicago  half-sheet  and  the  other 
four  is  the  Prunes  Editor  who  gets  $5  per 
week  on  a  Baltimore  paper  for  throwing  the 
hooks  into  the  "John  Henry"  books.  I 
have  their  names  and  history  and  in  book 
No.  9  I'll  tell  you  all  about  their  graft. 

The  Landlady  to  whom  the  Baltimore 
Cut-up  owes  a  bunch  o/  room  rent  informs 
me  that  if  Reulct  the  Roaster  could  zvrite 
a  series  of  books  which  would  reach  a  total 
sale  of  isofloo  copies  his  speed  getting  to 
a  publisher  would  be  1.27  flat;  Chain  Light- 
ning, 2d;  Empire  State  Express,  3d.  Royal 
Blue  and  Twentieth  Century  Limited  also 
ran. 

Lie  down,  Knocko,  you  bad  dog! 


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CONTENTS 


JOHN  Henry  Makrs  a  Choice n 

John  Henrv  Makes  a  Statement 27 

John  Henry  Makes  a  Speech 44 

John  Henry  Makes  a  Compact 55 

John  Henry  Makes  a  Note 66 

John  Henry  Makes  a  Holiday 81 

John  Henry  Makes  a  Mayor 95 


jriTWHrfttirpISfi? 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"Pbachks  wouldn't  take  a  stand-off '*°* 
so  I  PUT  Hit  WISE  !  "—Frontispiece. ...     27 

"  G'WAN  AWAY  FROM  ME  WITH  YOUR  DIME- 
NOVEL  TALK  !  " l5 

*'  There  are  eight  kegs  of  beer  in  the 
ball  grounds  !  " ,. 

The  bubble  turned  a  double  hand- 
spuing 6^ 

The  Delegation 5^ 

We  had  our  backs  to  each  other loa 


I  ; 


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VM    FROM    MISSOURI 


CHAPTER  I. 

JOHN   HENRY   MAKES   A   CHOICE. 

SEVEN     of     'em?"     inquired 
Bunch,  with  a  grin. 
"Yes,"  I  said;  "seven  of 
Ruraldene's  most  prominent 
citizens  have  asked  Uncle  Peter  to  run 
for  Mayor." 
"Is  he  game?" 

"Is  he  game!"  I  chortled;  "why 
the  way  he  fell  for  it  was  pitiful.  The 
moment  the  spokesman  guy  began  to 
heat  the  piazza  with  the  steam-coated 
language  Uncle  Peter  did  a  hoodah, 
and  when  they  mentioned  the  word 
Mayor  he  went  up  in  the  air  feet  first 
and  began  to  bark  at  the  scenery." 

"Do  you  think  he'll  be  elected?" 
Bimch  cut  in. 


IS 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


.» 


"  It's  a  moral,"  I  answered.     '  He'll 
win  hands  down— in  the  pockets— and 
the  odor  of  burning  money  won't  do 
a  thing  to  the  local  atmosphere.    Say, 
Bunch,  I  hate  to  see  Uncle  Peter  go  up 
against   the   political   ghost-dance   at 
his    time   of   life— and   with   all    that 
ma20om  I  Why,  as  soon  as  the  glad  tid- 
ings spread  around  that  he  was  over- 
board a  flock  of  ward-heelers  hit  the 
lawn  in  front  of  the  villa  and  we  had 
to    hide    every    pocketbook    in    the 
house." 

"  Why  don't  you  cure  him?"  laughed 
Bunch. 

"Now  don't  pull  that,"  I  snapped. 
"  The  suggestion  that  we  should  cure 
Uncle  Peter  of  race-trackitis  came 
from  the  cozy-corner  in  your  upper 
story  which  you  are  pleased  to  call 
your  brain,  and  what  happened  to  us? 
Nix,  Bunch,  I've  resigned  from  the 
Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 
to  Uncle  Peter's  Bank  Account.  It's 
my  play  to  let  him  splash  around  in  the 
political  mud  baths  till  he  cures  him- 


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IM    FROM    MISSOURI. 


«3 


self.  Never  again  will  I  make  up  for 
Rufus  the  Reformer  and  stand  between 
Uncle  Peter  and  the  red  lights.  It's 
up  to  him  if  he  wants  to  take  the 
weights  oflf  the  lid." 

"What  ticket  is  he  on?"  asked 
Bunch. 

"  I'll  give  you  eight  guesses,"  I  an- 
swered. "From  the  line  of  talk  the 
old  man  hands  out  I'm  afraid  it  must 
be  a  mileage  ticket." 

"  Well,  who's  running  against  him  ?  " 
Bunch  insisted. 

"  You  can  search  me,"  I  said.  "  I 
don't   believe   the  oppos'  can   find 

any  one  with  a  roll  big  env  ^h  to  stand 
the  pressure.  It's  a  mighty  fat  wad 
that  doesn't  feel  ashamed  of  itself  when 
it  stacks  up  to  Uncle  Peter's  rake-oflf. 
When's  the  wedding,  Bunch  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Uncle  William  Gray  has  put  it 
of!  another  year,"  sighed  Bunch.  "  He 
says  I  have  yet  to  demonstrate  my 
ability  as  a  business  man,  and  he  won't 
listen  to  any  argument.     I've  talked 


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1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


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1    I 


it  all  over  with  Alice  and  we  think 
seriously  of  eloping." 

Before  I  could  hand  Bunch  the  sym- 
pathetic mitt  Aunt  Martha  came  bust- 
ling out  on  the  veranda  followed  by 
Uncle  Peter,  who,  in  turn,  was  followed 
by  Lizzie  Joyce,  our  newest  and  latest 
cook. 

Lizzie  wore  a  new  lid,  trimmed  with 
prairie  grass  and  field  daisies,  hanging 
like  a  shade  over  the  left  lamp;  she  had 
a  grouchy  looking  grip  in  one  hand 
and  a  pink  parasol  with  black  freckles 
in  the  other.  She  was  made  up  to 
catch  the  first  train  that  sniflfed  into 
the  station. 

Aunt  Martha  greeted  Bunch,  and 
then  whispered  plaintively,  "  Lizzie  has 
been  here  only  two  days  and  this  makes 
the  seventh  time  she  has  started  for 
town." 

Busy  Lizzie  took  the  centre  of  the 
stage  and  scowled  at  her  audience. 
**  I'm  takin'  the  next  train  for  town, 
Mem!  "  she  announced,  with  consider- 
able bitterness. 


Qi) 


1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


15 


Uncle  Peter  made  a  brave  effort  to 
scowl  back  at  her,  but  she  flashed  her 
lanterns  at  him  and  he  fell  back  two 
paces  to  the  rear. 

"What  is  it  this  time,  Lizzie?"  in- 
quired Aunt  Martha. 

Lizzie  put  the  grouchy  grip  down, 
folded  her  arms,  and  said,  "  Oh!  I  have 
me  grievances! " 

Uncle  Peter  sidled  up  to  Aunt 
Martha,  and  said  in  a  hoarse  whisper, 
"  My  dear,  this  shows  a  lack  of  firm- 
ness on  your  part.  Now  leave  every- 
thing to  me  and  let  me  settle  this 
obstreperous  servant  once  and  for  all!" 
Uncle  Peter  crossed  over  and  got 
in  the  limelight  with  Lizzie. 

"  It  occurs  to  me,"  he  began  in 
polished  accents,  "  that  this  is  an  occa- 
sion upon  which  I  shot  id  publicly 
point  out  to  you  the  error  of  your 
ways,  and  send  you  back  to  your  hum- 
ble station  with  a  better  knowledge 
of  your  status  in  this  household." 

"S'cat!"    said    Lizzie,    and    Uicle 
Peter  began  to  fish  for  his  next  line. 


i6 


I'm   from   MISSOURI. 


Mi  :i^; 


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"  I  want  you  to  understand,"  he 
went  on,  "  that  I  pay  you  your  wages! " 

"  Sure,  if  you  didn't,"  was  Lizzie's 
come-back,  "  I'd  land  on  you  good  and 
hard,  that  I  would.  What  else  are  you 
here  for,  you  fathead?  " 

"  Fathead!  "  echoed  Uncle  Peter  in 
astonishment. 

"Peter  leave  her  to  m.e,"  pleaded 

Aunt  Martha. 

But  Uncle  Peter  rushed  blindly  on 
to  destruction.  "Elizabeth,"  he  said, 
sternly,  "i'-  -lew  of  your  most  unre- 
fined and  unladylike  language  it  be- 
hooves me  to  reprimand  you  severely. 
I  will,  therefore " 

Then  Lizzie  and  the  pink  parasol 
struck  a  Casey-at-the-bat  pose,  and  cut 
in:  "  G'wan  away  from  me  with  your 
dime  novel  talk  or  I'll  olace  the  back 
of  me  unladylike  hand  Oii  your  jowls! " 

"  Peter!  "  warningly  exclaimed  the 
perturbed  Aunt  Martha. 

"  Yes,  Martha;  you're  right,"  the  old 
gentleman  said,  turning  hastily.     "I 


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'  G'wan   away  from   me  with  your 
dime-novel  talk  '  "— Pa-e   16 


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I'm   from    MISSOURI. 


17 


must  hurry  and  finish  my  speech  of 
acceptance,"  and  he  faded  away. 

"It  isn't  an  easy  matter  to  get 
servants  out  here,"  Aunt  Martha  whis- 
pered to  us;  "I  must  humor  her. 
Now,  Lizzie,  what's  wrong?  " 

"  You  told  me,  Mem,  that  I  should 
have  a  room  with  a  southern  ex- 
posure," said  the  Queen  of  the  Bunga- 
low. 

"  And  isn't  the  room  as  described?  " 
inquired  Aunt  Martha. 

"  The  room  is  all  right,  but  I  don't 
Care  for  the  exposure,"  said  the  Prin- 
cess  of  Porkchops. 

"  Well,  what's  wrong?  '  insisted  my 
patient  Auntie. 

"Sure,  the  room  is  so  exposed, 
Mem,  that  every  mosquito  between 
here  and  Long  Island  City  flew  in  there 
last  night,  Mem,  and  almost  beat  me 
to  death  with  their  wings,"  said  the 
Baroness  Bread-pudding,  with  acri- 
mony. "I'm  a  cook,  Mem;  I'm  no  free 
lunch  for  a  passel  of  hungry  mosqui- 
toes." 


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I  M   FROM    MISSOURI. 


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"Very  well,  Lizzie,"  said  Aunt 
Martha,  soothingly;  *'  I'll  have  screens 
put  in  the  windows  at  once  and  a 
netting  over  the  bed." 

"  All  right,  Mem,"  said  the  Countess 
o{  Cornbeef,  removing  the  lid,  "  I'll 
stay;  but  keep  that  husband  of  yours 
with  the  woozy  lingo  out  of  the  kitchen, 
because  I'm  a  nervous  woman — I  am 
that!"  and  then  the  Duchess  of 
Devilledkidneys  got  a  strangle-hold  on 
her  grouchy  grip  a.  '  ducked  for  the 
grub  foundry. 

Aunt  Martha  sighed  and  went  out 
in  the  garden  where  Uncle  Peter  was 
composing  his  first  political  speech. 

"Bunch,"  I  said;  "this  scene  with 
Her  Highness  of  Clamchowder  ought 
to  be  an  awful  warning  to  you.  No 
man  should  get  married  these  days  un- 
less he's  sure  his  wife  can  juggle  the 
frying  pan  and  take  a  fall  out  of  an 
egg  beater.  We've  had  eighteen  cooks 
in  eighteen  days,  and  every  time  a  new 
face  comes  in  the  kitchen  the  dumb- 
waiter screams  with  fright. 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


19 


i 


"  You  can  see  where  they've  worn 
a  new  trail  through  the  grass  on  the 
retreat  to  the  depot. 

"  It's  an  awful  thing,  Bunch!  l\Iy 
palate  is  weak  from  sampling  different 
styles  of  mashed  potatoes. 

"  We  had  one  last  week  who  an- 
swered roll  call  when  you  veiled 
Phyllis. 

"  Isn't  that  a  peach  of  a  handle  for 
a  kitchen  queen  with  a  map  like  Man- 
churia on  a  dark  night? 

"  She  came  to  us  well  recommended, 
by  herself,  and  said  she  knew  how  to 
cook  backwards. 

"We  believed  her  after  the  first 
meal,  because  that's  how  she  cooked 
it. 

"  Phyllis  was  a  very  inventive  girl. 
She  could  cook  anything  on  earth  or 
in  the  waters  underneath  the  earth, 
and  she  proved  it  by  trying  to  mix 
tenpenny  nails  with  the  baked  beans. 

■  When  Phyllis  found  there  was  no 
shredded  oats  in  the  house  for  break- 
fast  she    changed   the    cover   of   the 


.,r 


90 


I  M   FROM    MISSOURI. 


washtub  into  sawdust  and  sprinkled  it 
with  the  whisk  broom,  chopped  fine. 

"  It  wasn't  a  half  bad  breakfast  food 
of  the  home-made  kind,  but  every  time 
I  took  a  drink  of  water  the  sawdust 
used  to  float  up  in  my  throat  and  tickle 
me. 

"  The  first  and  only  day  she  was 
with  us  Phyllis  squandered  two  dol- 
lars' worth  of  eggs  trying  to  make  a 
lemon  meringue  pot  pie. 

"  She  tried  to  be  artistic  with  this, 
but  one  of  the  eggs  was  old  and  nerv- 
ous and  it  slipped. 

"Uncle  Peter  asked  Phyllis  if  she 
could  cook  some  Hungarian  goulash, 
and  Phyllis  screamed, '  No;  my  parents 
have  been  Swedes  all  their  lives!' 
Then  she  ran  him  across  the  lawn  with 
the  carving  knife. 

"  My  wife  went  in  the  kitchen  to  ask 
what  was  for  dinner  and  Phyllis  got 
back  at  her,  *  I'm  a  woman,  it  is  true, 
but  I  will  show  you  that  I  can  keep  a 
secret! ' 
"  When  the  meal  came  on  the  table 


:'^jt\  .-si.T 


IM    FROM    MISSOURI. 


21 


we  were  compelled  to  keep  the  secret 
with  her. 

"  It  looked  like  Irish  stew,  tasted 
like  clam  chowder  and  behaved  like  a 
bad  boy. 

"  On  the  second  day  it  suddenly  oc- 
curred to  Phyllis  that  she  was  work- 
ing, so  she  handed  in  her  resignation, 
handed  Hank,  the  gardener,  a  jolt  in 
his  cafe  department,  handed  out  a  lot 
of  unnecessary  talk,  and  left  us  flat. 

"  The  only  thing  about  the  house 
that  loved  her  was  a  pair  of  my  wife's 
handsome  side  combs,  and  they  went 
with  her. 

"  The  next  rebate  we  had  in  the 
kitchen  was  a  colored  man  named 
James  Buchanan  Pendergrast. 

"  James  was  all  there  is  and  carry 
four.  He  was  one  of  the  most  careful 
cooks  that  ever  made  faces  at  the  roast 
beef. 

"  The  evening  he  arrived  we  in- 
tended to  have  shad  roe  for  dinner,  and 
James  informed  us  that  that  was  where 
he  lived. 


23 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


C. 


W- 


mr*  £~,X^' 


"  Eight  o'clock  came  and  no  dinner. 
Half-past  eight  and  no  dinner.  Then 
Aunt  Martha  went  in  the  kitchen  to 
convince  him  that  we  were  human 
beings  wifh  appetites. 

"  She  found  Careful  James  counting 
the  roe  to  see  if  the  fish  dealer  had 
sent  the  right  number. 

"  He  was  up  to  2,196,493  and  still 
had  a  half  a  pound  to  go. 

"James  left  that  night  followed  by 
shouts  of  approval  from  all  present. 

"  I'm  telling  you  all  this.  Bunch,  just 
to  prove  that  Fate  is  kind  while  it  de- 
lays your  wedding  until  some  genius 
invents  an  automatic  cook  made  of 
aluminum  and  electricity." 

Bunch  laughed  and  shook  his  head. 
I' I've  waited  long  enough,"  he  said, 
"and  I  intend  to  marry  Alice  before 
November  in  spite  of  Mr.  William 
Gray!" 

''Wait,  Bunch!"  I  yelled  suddenly; 
"  I've  got  an  idea!  and  it's  a  corker! " 

"Your  ideas  usually  are,"  Bunch 
came  back  at  me. 


I'm   from   MISSOURI. 


aj 


"  Drop  the  hammer  and  be  good,"  I 
admonished.  "  This  idea  is  a  kick- 
apalaz  all  right.  Get  a  committee  to 
induce  Uncle  William  Gray  to  run 
against  Uncle  Peter  for  Mayor!" 

Bunch  jumped  to  his  feet.  "  Where 
does  that  help  me?  "  he  asked. 

"  Why,  you  can  be  Uncle  William's 
campaign  manager  and  make  such  a 
hit  with  him  that  at  the  finish  he'll 
smother  you  and  Alice  in  orange  blos- 
soms," T  went  on.  "  Take  my  tip. 
Bunch;  it's  the  royal  road  to  Cinch- 
town,  and  I'll  help  you  on  your  way." 

"You'll  help  me!"  he  repeated  in 
astonishment;  "  against  Uncle  Peter?** 

"  Bunch!  "  I  said,  "  Uncle  Peter  is  a 
wise  old  gentleman,  but  he  has  no  busi- 
ness sloshing  around  in  the  political 
puddle.  If  he  wins  this  local  election 
he'll  get  ambitious,  and  if  he  gets  am- 
bitious he'll  go  broke.  Besides,  he  has 
ignored  me  completely  in  the  whole 
matter.  When  the  subject  first  came 
up  I  tried  to  cut  in  with  some  sound 
advice,  but  '^e  went  away  out  on  the 


M 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


: ',' 


.'I 


ice.  He  told  Clara  J.  that  he  would 
conduct  his  own  campaign  because  he 
knows  he  is  a  born  diplomat.  So  the 
fence  for  mine.  Now  take  my  tip, 
Bunch;  get  a  committee  after  Uncle 
William  Gray." 

"Perhaps    he    won't    run,"    Bunch 
said. 

"  Won't  run  when  he's  told  that  his 
opponent  is  Uncle  Peter  Grant!"  I 
shouted.  "  Why  you  know  as  well  as  I 
do  that  Uncle  Peter  is  old  Bill  Gray's 
most  cherished  enemy.  Both  of  them 
have  spent  the  last  ten  years  hiding  up 
the  road  and  hoping  each  other's 
hearse  will  come  along  so  they  can 
scare  the  horses !  " 

"  You  know,  John,  I've  been  away 
on  a  four  months  business  ti  p  and  I'm 
not  posted  on  local  affairs/'  Bunch 
butted  in.  "  I  noticed  several  shady- 
looking  characters  around  the  Gray 
villa  yesterday  when  I  called  on  Alice— 
maybe  they  were  trying  to  induce  the 
old  fellow  to  accept  the  nomination. 
Do  you  really  think  he'll  run  ?  " 


^*<I>ti41- 


1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


as 


"Why,  when  William  Gray  learns 
that  Peter  Grant  is  running  for  Mayor 
he'll  be  overboard  with  a  splash  that 
will  wet  every  throat  in  Ruraiclene," 
I  answered.  "What!  Uncle  William 
let  Uncle  Peter  be  the  hottest  pie  in 
the  community!  not  on  your  tontine!  " 
"  I'm  beginning  to  like  the  idea," 
Bunch  answered.  "And  you'll  help 
me,  John?" 

I  threw  a  willing  mitt  at  Bunch,  but 
before  he  could  reach  for  it  Uncle 
Peter  rushed  breathlessly  around  the 
corner. 

"John,"  he  panted;  "I've  come  to 
my  senses  in  this  matter.  Young  blood 
is  best  after  all.  I've  just  decided  to 
make  you  my  campaign  manager,  and 
you'll  steer  me  on  to  victory." 

"  But,  just  a  moment.  Uncle  Peter;" 
I  begcn,  and  he  stopped  me. 
^^  "  No  argument.  John!  "  he  shouted; 
"  the  honor  of  the  family  is  at  stake. 
I've  just  heard  that  old  Bill  Gray  will 
accept  the  nomination  to  run  on  the 
opposition   ticket   and   we   must   beat 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


I 


t.    g. 


t   t  \!'«    . 


li 


him!  For  the  honor  of  the  family, 
John!" 

I  looked  sheepishly  at  Bunch  and 
Bunch  looked  at  his  hat. 

"  For  the  honor  of  the  family," 
Uncle  ^^ter  repeated,  "  and  damn  old 
Bill  C.^y!" 

"  It's  all  off,"  I  whispered  to  Bunch, 
as  I  took  Uncle  Peter's  hand  in  mine. 

Bunch  took  to  his  heels. 


If.-;* 

■r 


(1 


*l^'* 


I  •' 


^.Si^ll 


HIMiHHH 


CHAPTER   II. 


JOIIX    HEXRV    MAKES    A    STATEMENT. 

I    WAS  sitting  on  the  veranda  the 
next    morn'ng    studying    "The 
Poh'tician's  Catechism,"  which  I 
had     found     somewhere,    when 
Clara  J.  declared  herself  in   and  got 
curious  about  the  literature  I  was  hand- 
ling with  so  much  interest. 

"  It's  politics — I'm  studying  the 
game,"  I  told  her.  "  You' wouldn't 
understand  it,  Peaches." 

She  wouldn't  take  a  stand-off  so  I 
put  her  wise. 

"  I  don't  K-p.ow  who  the  Dope  is  that 
cooked  this  up,"  I  said,  "  but  he  knows 
how  to  play  ball.    Listen  to  this: 


THE    POLITICIAX  S    CATECHISM. 

Question — What  is  the  first  dutx  of 
a  Candidate? 


28 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


Answer — A  duty  of  about  57  per 
cent,  on  his  "  barrel."  If  the  "  barrel  " 
won't  stand  it,  make  it  SzVi- 

Question — What  is  a  Candidate  any- 
way? 

Answer — A  Candidate  is  a  "  thins:  " 
which  the  ward  managers  use  for  leg- 
pulling  purposes  up  and  until  election 
day,  when  if  si^ccessful  the  "thing " 
becomes  "  it." 

Question — In  making  a  speech,  what 
should  A  Candidate  use  for  his  open- 
ing sentence? 

Answer — "  I  believe  that  a  public 
office  is  a  public  trust." 

Question — Is  this  strictly  new? 

Answer — Oh,  no!  Adam  used  to  sit 
on  the  stone  fence  around  Eden  and 
recite  it  to  the  birds  and  beasts  before 
elocution  books  were  printed. 

Question — Then,  why  should  a  Can- 
didate always  use  it? 

Answer — Because  usually  Candi- 
dates are  so  busy  watching  their 
pocketbooks  they  haven't  time  to  think 


I  M    FROM    IkllSSOURI. 


29 


original  thoughts  for  home  consump- 
tion. 

Ori  -stion — Name  another  sterling 
sentence  which  a  Candidate  may  use 
with  impunity. 

Answer — "  I  am  eternally,  irre- 
vocably and  everlastingly  opposed  to 
everything  that  needs  opposition  dur- 
ing the  course  of  such  time  a-  I  may 
be  in  a  position  to  draw  a  sa-^'^v  while 
opposing  such  things  as  may  need  op- 
position." 

Question — Good!  That  reads  like 
Alcibiades,  sounds  like  Socrates,  and 
means  as  much  as  a  Populist  platform. 
What  is  the  opening  sentence  of  the 
second  paragraph  of  the  first  section 
of  a  Candidate's  speech? 

Answer — "  The  will  of  the  sovereign 
people  of  this  glorious  ward  will  not 
let  such  a  heinous  crime  go  unpun- 
ished." 

Question — What  is  the  heinous 
crime  referred  to? 

Answer — Damfino. 

Question — Correct.  Can  you  name 


30 


1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


): 


the  second  sentence  of  the  third  para- 
graph of  the  first  section  of  a  Candi- 
date's speech? 

Answer — "  I  say,  let  us  have  justice, 
though  the  hefivens  fall,  and  should 
any  man  haul  down  the  American  flag, 
shoot  him  on  the  spot." 

Question — What  spot? 

Answer — Ten  spot,  I  suppose. 

Question — Correct.  Name  the  first 
sentence  of  the  third  paragraph  of  the 
fourth  section  of  a  Candidate's  speech 
on  a  hot  summer's  night. 

Answer — "  I  will  cling  earnestly  to 
the  faith  of  my  fathers  and  I  will  re- 
sist, tooth  and  nail,  with  all  my  soul 
and  with  all  my  strength  and  with  all 
my  will  and  with  all  my  power  the 
machinations  of  those  low-browed 
devils  who  seek  to  bend  the  neck  of  the 
sovereign  citizens  of  this  ward  beneath 
their  iron  heels." 

Question — In  what  ward  have  they 
low-browed  devils  and  iron  heels? 

Answer — They  always  have  'em  in 


I  M   FROM    MISSOURI. 


the  wards  where  the  Candidate  is  par- 
ticularly young  and  effervescent. 

Question — Can  you  repeat  the  first 
sentence  of  the  seventeenth  paragraph 
of  the  eighteenth  section  of  a  Can- 
didate's speech? 

Answer — "  The  office  should  seek 
the  man." 

Question — That  sounds  new  and  re- 
freshing.    By  whom  was  it  invented? 

Answer — By  a  politician  from  Rome 
about  the  time  Mr.  J.  Csesar  built  his 
first  summer  cottage  in  Gaul. 

Question — What  is  a  Trust? 

Answer — A  Trust  is  a  body  of  men 
entirely  surrounded  by  money. 

Question — What  have  the  Trusts  to 
do  with  the  political  situation? 

Answer — How  do  I  know — I  haven't 
seen  their  check  books. 

Question — What  is  a  platform? 

Answer — A  platform  is  a  thing  to 
stand  on. 

Question — What  is  a  political  plat- 
form? 


32 


FROM    MISSOURI. 


Answer — A  political  platform  is  a 
thing  to  jump  on. 

Question — What  is  the  Candidate's 
favorite  expression  previous  to  elec- 
tion? 

Answer — "  Every  citizen  is  a  sover- 
eign, and  I  glory  in  the  thought." 

Question — What  is  a  successful  Can- 
didate's favorite  expression  after  elec- 
tion? 

Answer — "  Every  citizen  is  an  office- 
hunter,  and  they  make  me  sick." 

Question — Good!  Now  let  us  take 
a  short  recess,  and  eat  some  iced- 
watermelon. 


"  Are  you  going  to  make  Uncle 
Peter  study  all  that?"  inquired  Clara 
J.  when  I  finished. 

"No,"  I  answered;  "he'll  be  too 
busy  making  marks  in  his  check  book." 

Before  she  could  ask  for  further  de- 
tails the  postman  came  trailing  up  the 
road  with  the  morning  mail. 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


33 


Hank,  our  gardener,  went  down  to 
the  gate  to  meet  him.  Hank  is  as  deaf 
as  the  conscience  of  a  ward  Boss. 

"  Good  morning!  "  said  the  postman. 

"Hey?"  whi  pered  Hank  with  h"; 
southpaw  up  to  his  Hstener. 

"  I  say,  it's  a  nice  morning,"  the 
letter  carrier  yelled. 

"Yes,  all  very  well,  thank  ye!" 
Hank  replied;  "  exceptin'  my  littlest 
gal,  Genevive.  She  was  ailin'  some 
when  I  left  home  this  mornin'." 

"  That's  too  bad,"  the  letter  carrier 
sympathized  loudly. 

"Two!"  cried  Hank;  "oh,  bless 
you,  no!  I've  got  nine  of  'em.  The 
oldest  is  twelve  years  and  the  youngest 
is  fourteen  days." 

The  letter  cai.Ier  laughed  and  was 
on  his  way  while  Hank  brought  the 
mail  to  me,  still  talking  as  he  sorted 
the  letters  over :  "  But  I  don't  see  no 
gold  medals  coming  from  President 
Roosevelt  because  I  cfidn't  commit  a 
race  suicide.  I  reckon  J.  Fenimor« 
Cooper  was  right  when  he  said  Repub- 


1 


34 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


lies    is    ongrateful    critters."      Hank 
sighed  and  went  back  to  his  garden. 

"  Here's  a  scream  from  Bunch,"  I 
said  opening  the  letter  which  read  a5 
follows : 

Ruraldene,  Tuesday. 

Dear  John — Mr.  William  Gray  has 
appointed  me  his  campaign  manager, 
and  I  take  pleasure  in  announcing  that 
our  prospects  for  success  are  more 
than  hopeful.  I  mean  to  work  as  I 
have  never  worked  before,  and  you 
may  depend  upon  it  that  Mr.  Peter 
Grant  will  have  a  hard  road  to  travel 
from  now  until  election  day.  Of  course 
we  don't  believe  in  personalities  or 
mud-slinging,  but  this  does  not  blind 
us  to  the  fact  that  old  Peter  Grant  is 
the  inventor  of  the  original  criminal 
Trust,  and  we  will  prove  it  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  voters  in  this  district.  It 
must  be  awful  to  have  a  man  like  Foxy 
Pete  in  the  family,  and  you  have  my 
heartfelt  sympathy  in  your  hour  of 
woe.  This  will  be  one  time,  however, 
when  he'll  get  all  that's  coming  to  him 
and  he'll  begin  to  get  it  soon. 
Lovingly  yours, 

BuNCK  Jefferson. 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


35 


"  Well,  wouldn't  that  tie  your  horse," 
I  yelled.  "  Bunch,  my  old  friend  and 
pal  for  years,  throwing  the  harpoon 
into  me  and  breaking  it  ofif!  Gi'  me  a 
pen  so  I  can  get  back  at  him  and  curl 
his  hair." 

"  Wait  a  moment,  John,"  suggested 
Clara  J.  "  That's  no  way  for  a  com- 
mander to  act.  If  you're  going  to  lose 
your  temper  at  the  first  challenge  of 
the  enemy,  where  will  you  be  when  t'ae 
real  fight  begins?  " 

"You're  right.  Peaches,"  I  said,  sim- 
mering down,  "  and  that  will  be  about 
all  for  me  until  Uncle  Peter  is  elected. 
Bunch  hit  me  with  a  hot  potato  when 
I  wasn't  looking  and  I  choked  up. 
Hereafter  me  with  the  General  Grant 
cigar  in  the  face  and  the  glad  wrinkles 
around  the  eyes  for  all  comers." 

Uncle  Peter  and  Aunt  Martha 
joined  us,  the  latter  beaming  with  pride 
and  the  former  tapping  nervously  on 
a  roll  of  foolscap  and  smiling  at  the 
universe. 

"  The  speech  of  acceptance  is  ready, 


[i 


36 


1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


John,"  Uncle  Peter  announced,  "  and 
I  hope  you'll  approA  e  and  ratify  my 
platform.  If  I  do  say  it  myself,  this 
speech  is  an  inspiration.  I  feel  that  it 
will  be  the  foundation  of  a  great  po- 
litical future.  The  more  I  read  it  over 
the  more  it  reminds  me  of  Lincoln's 
gifted  utterances.  When  the  Commit- 
tee gets  here  they  will  listen,  spell- 
bound. I'm  sure  you'll  all  be  sur- 
prised." 

Hank,  the  gardener,  strolled  up  and 
leaned  on  his  scythe  as  Uncle  Peter 
started  in. 

"  Fellow-citizens,  taxpayers  and  en- 
lightened voters  of  Ruraldene,''  the  old 
gentleman  began;  "this  is  a  momen- 
tous moment  in  the  history  of  our  be- 
loved little  city." 

When  he  paused  for  approval  Aunt 
^lartha  turned  to  Hank  and  said, 
"  Isn't  it  perfectly  lovely!  and  the  lan- 
guage is  so  convincing,  too! " 

"  No,  ma'am,"  Hank  replied,  "  not 
two,  only  one — Genevive,  my  third 
youngest,  she's  ailin'  some." 


>>- 


IM    FROM    MISSOURI. 


37 


"  Oh,  dear  mc!  "  sighed  the  flustered 
old  lady;  "  I  always  forget  about  poor 
Hank's  affliction."  Then,  in  a  shrill 
scream  to  the  gardener:  "  I  was  speak- 
ing of  Mr.  Grant's  speech.  Don't  you 
catch  its  drift? " 

"  Catching!  "  answered  Hank,  amia- 
bly; "oh,  no,  ma'am!  it  ain't  nothin' 
catchin'.  It's  just  a  mild  attackt  of 
asbestos — here  in  the  chest — she 
wheezes  frightful  at  times,  but  Gene- 
vive  don't  mind  it.  She  gets  it  from 
her  mother's  side — asbestos  ran  in  her 
family." 

Then,  to  Uncle  Peter's  infinite  relief. 
Hank  hoisted  his  scythe  and  floated 
ofif. 

The  Candidate  began  again:  "Fel- 
low-citizens, taxpayers  and  enlight- 
ened voters  of  Ruraldene,  this  is  a  mo- 
mentous moment  in  the  history  of  our 
beloved  little  city.  I  have  heard  with 
a  feeling  of  pardonable  pride " 

Enter  at  this  moment  Lizzie  Joyce, 
with  the  prairie  grass  lid,  the  grouchy 


38 


I'm    from    MISSOURI. 


grip  and  the  parasol  with  the  freckles 

on  it. 

She  was  made  up  to  stop  the  first 
passenger  train  that  got  a  flash  of  her. 

•*  I'm  after  giving  you  my  not  .e, 
Mem,"  she  said  to  Aunt  Martha  abso- 
lutely blind  to  the  fact  that  Uncle  Peter 
was  glaring  at  her  and  boiling  with  in- 
dignation. 

It  certainly  does  jar  a  budding 
statesman  to  have  the  cook  come  out 
of  the  kitchen  and  put  the  boots  to  his 
maiden  speech. 

"What's  the  matter  this  time?"  in- 
quired the  gentle  Aunt  Martha,  anx- 
ious to  avert  a  disaster. 

"  A  strange  boy  just  came  ii  he 
kitchen  and  told  me  that  I  was  workin' 
for  the  man  that  invinted  the  criminal 
Thrusts,"  answered  Lizzie,  throwing  a 
baleful  gleam  at  Uncle  Peter,  "  and  I'll 
not  work  for  no  criminal.  The  boy 
told  me,  too,  that  the  man  I'm  workin' 
for  spinds  all  his  money  to  keep  Ire- 
land from  gettin'  home  rule,  and  I 
quits  me  job." 


I'm    from    MISSOURI. 


39 


"What!"  shrieked  Uncle  Peter, 
dancing  around  the  lawn.  "  I  invented 
the  criminal  Trusts!  I  keep  Ireland 
from  getting  home  rule!  Oh!  oh!  it's 
a  villainous  roorback!  " 

"  Don't  you  call  me  no  roorback  or 
I'll  beat  your  head  off,  you  old  por- 
poise! "  yelled  Lizzie,  as  she  raised  the 
parasol  and  sailed  after  our  excited 
Candidate,  but  Aunt  Martha's  per- 
suasions prevailed  and  Lizzie  was  led 
back  to  the  kitchen. 

"  It's  Bunch,"  I  whispered  to  Clara 
J.  "  He  sent  that  boy  here  to  inflame 
the  mind  of  our  cook,  and  if  that's  his 
idea  of  political  warfare  we'll  starve 
before  the  campaign  gets  started. 

"Bunch!"  exclaimed  Clara  J.  in- 
dignantly; "  if  he  has  really  stooped  to 
such  tactics  as  that  I'll  never  speak  to 
him  as  long  as  I  live." 

"Easy,  Peaches!"  I  admonished; 
"  the  campaign  is  young  yet,  and 
Bunch  may  redeem  himself.  Besides, 
I'm  going  to  hand  him  something 
pretty  soon  that  will  make  him  sit  up 


40 


I'm  from  MISSOl  ri. 


and  notice  things.  There'll  be  a  few 
warm  moments  in  Bill  Gray's  section 
of  Ruraldeiie  before  this  fight  is  c  -er — 
believe  me." 

In  the  meantime  Uncle  Peter  had 
cooled  off  and  was  now  politely  receiv- 
ing the  local  Committee  which  had 
been  appointed  to  wait  on  him  and  re- 
ceive the  first  official  announcement 
that  he  would  run  on  their  ticket  for 
Mayor. 

Uncle  Peter  escorted  the  seven  gen- 
tlemen up  to  the  veranda  and  intro- 
duced them. 

Gabe  Malone  was  the  chairman  of 
the  Committee,  and  I  thought  his  face 
turned  olive  green  with  disappoint- 
ment when  I  was  presented  as  the 
Candidate's  campaign  manager. 

Pm  afraid  Gabe  had  bought  a  lot  of 
new  clothes  with  the  money  he  ex- 
pected to  coax  away  from  Uncle  Pe- 
ter's campaign  fund. 

My  delighted  Uncle  beamed  gra- 
ciously upon  the  Committee,  which 
was  a  unit  in  watching  for  signs  of  a 


i'm  from  missolri. 


41 


wet  spell  wherein  to  drink  the  Candi- 
date's lieallh. 

"  I  have  worked  over  my  speech  of 
acceptance  for  several  days,"  the  old 
gentleman  informed  the  Committee,  as 
he  bustled  about  to  prepare  for  the 
great  event,  "  and  I  flatter  myself  that 
it  will  create  considerable  consterna- 
tion in  the  enemy's  camp  when  it  is 
publicly  printed." 

The  Committee  cheered  and  watched 
eagerly  for  the  appearance  of  a  tray 
with  the  balloon  juice  thereon. 

In  order  to  make  his  Committee  feel 
more  at  home,  for  the  day  was  hot 
and  they  were  somewhat  ticgligc,  Un- 
cle Peter  had  thrown  hi;  coat  on  the 
lawn  and  was  playing  the  host  in  his 
shirt  sleeves. 

Presently  all  was  in  readiness.  Re- 
freshments had  been  served  to  such  an 
extent  that  the  Committee  was  pre- 
pared to  yell  its  several  lungs  out.  and 
we  all  awaited  Uncle  Peter's  first  ora- 
torical effort  v.-ith  bursting  enthusi- 
asm. 


4a 


I'm   from    MISSOURI. 


h    « 


The  Candidate  picked  up  his  coat 
from  the  grass  and  made  a  most  pains- 
taking bow  in  the  direction  of  the  wide, 
wide  world. 

Then  he  put  on  his  glasses  and  dove 
into  the  inside  pocket  of  his  coat  for 
the  speech  which  was  to  be  the  ef- 
fort of  his  life. 

A  shadow  of  astonishment  crossed 
his  features  as  his  hand  went  deeper 
into  the  pocket.  All  the  other  pockets 
he  tried  in  nervous  haste,  and  then, 
with  a  groan  of  despair,  he  yelled : 

"My  God!  my  speech  has  been 
stolen!  " 

A  shrill  scream  of  triumph  from  the 
direction  of  the  roadway  caused  us  all 
to  turn  and  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
red-headed,  barefooted  kid  standing  on 
the  gate  with  a  roll  of  foolscap  in  one 
hand  and  the  other  thumb  attached  to 
the  end  of  his  nose. 

"  It's  a  bum  speech  anyway,"  yelled 
the  grinning  urchin,  and  with  another 
shriek  of  triumph  he  put  off  down  the 
pike  to  beat  the  wind. 


1*M    l-UOM    MISSOURI. 


43 


"  More  of  Bunch  Jefferson's  devilish 
work,"  I  whispered  hoarsely  to  Clara 
J.,  while  the  Committee  poured  out 
enough  liquor  to  float  the  pallid  Uncle 
Peter,  and  joyfully  drank  it  themselves 
when  he  refused  it. 

"  Bunch  isn't  a  political  fighter,"  I 
muttered  bitterly;  "he's  a  wrecker  of 
homes." 


CHAPTER  III. 


JOHN  HENRY  MAKES  A  SPEECH. 

THE  days  rolled  by  and  Rural- 
dene  watched  with  increas- 
ing interest  the  struggle  for 
supremacy  between  Mr.  Pe- 
ter Grant  and  Mr.  William  Gray. 

From  the  moment  the  glad  tidings 
spread  around  that  they  were  out  to 
make  monkeys  of  each  other  it  seemed 
that  every  voter  in  the  community  quit 
work  and  gum-shoed  after  the  two 
Candidates. 

Everybody  knew  that  money  would 
flow  like  water,  and  everybody  was  for 
putting  bulkhead  compartments  in  the 
clothes. 

As  for  me! — well,  Uncle  Peter 
handed  me  a  fat  slob  of  a  checkbook 
and  told  me  to  cut  loose,  and  I  be- 
came so  popular  in  all  the  booze  ba- 
zaars that  I  had  to  wear  ice  in  the 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


45 


derby  to  keep  the  noddle  from  spread- 
ing. 

I  worked  eighteen  hours  a  day  every 
day  and  I  slept  with  one  lamp  lit. 

I  began  to  notice  that  the  Gray  fac- 
tion was  making  a  big  play  for  the 
women.  They  seemed  to  think  that 
if  they  got  the  wives  and  mothers  on 
their  side  it  would  be  all  off  with  the 
Grant  prospects. 

Bunch  Jefferson  had  handbills  and 
three-sheets  all  over  town  with  cracks 
like  these  in  big  L.ack  type: 


GOD   BLESS  OUR    HOME 
WHICH  KNOWS  NO  PETER  GRANT! 


WHAT   IS   HOME  WITHOUT  A 
MOTHER? 

ASK    PETER    GRANT.    THE    POLITI 
CAL   PIRATE. 


WHEN  WAS   PETER  GRANT  BORN? 
AND  WHY? 


■;ss^"s«Rjss^r 


UPKr 


46 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


"  The  opposition  is  out  to  jolly  the 
women  along,"  I  explained  to  Uncle 
Peter,  "  because  they  think  Mama 
will  influence  Papa's  political  opinions. 
They  are  throwing  the  taffy  at  Mother 
and  getting  her  woozy  with  the  happy 
conversation  in  the  hope  that  she'll 
crowd  Papa  up  in  the  corner  and  take 
his  vote  away  from  him.  It's  up  to  us 
to  say  a  few  pleasant  words  about 
Father,  for,  after  all,  it's  Dad  tliu 
does  the  heavy  thinking  on  election 
day  and  bites  deep  into  the  lead-pencil 
before  putting  his  mark  on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  ticket.  Let's  pass  the  candy 
to  Papa  and  put  a  crimp  in  the  oppo- 
sition's plan  of  campaign." 

"  But  how?  "  inquired  Uncle  Peter. 

"  I've  cooked  up  a  speech  for  you," 
I  answered,  "  and  it's  the  goods. 
What's  more,  I've  fixed  it  so  that 
there'll  be  an  audience  here  in  half  an 
hour  to  hear  it." 

"Great  Scott,  John!"  exclaimed 
Uncle  Peter,  "  I  can't  make  an  im- 


IM   FROM    MISSOURI. 


47 


portant  speech  on  a  half-hour's  no- 
tice." 

"  To  the  bench  for  yours,"  I  said. 
"  I'm  going  to  talk  for  you." 

"You — you  are — you,"  he  splut- 
tered. 

"Sure  I  am,"  I  came  back;  "and 
why  not?  I'll  tell  'em  you  have  a  mild 
attack  of  tonsilitis  and  that  I  have  un- 
der iaken  to  read  your  speech." 

"  But  perhaps  I  may  not  approve  of 
all  the  sentiments  therein,"  he  insisted. 

"Approve  nothing,"  I  said;  "I'm 
going  to  make  this  speech  and  put  you 
on  Pleasant  Avenue  with  the  push. 
They'll  think  you  wrote  it  and  you'll  be 
the  hit  of  the  show.  Now  be  good  and 
go  gargle  your  sore  throat." 

Uncle  Peter  walked  off  shaking  his 
head  doubtfully,  and  I  prepared  for  the 
audience,  which  had  already  begun  to 
straggle  across  the  lawn. 

In  half  an  hour  there  was  a  large 
gathering  of  men,  women  and  children 
camped  on  our  premises,  and  promptly 
to  the  minute  I  mounted  the  rostrum. 


48 


I'm   from    MISSOURI. 


I» 


Uncle  Peter,  with  a  bandanna  hand- 
kerchief around  his  neck,  sat  near  me 
and  put  his  hand  on  his  forehead  from 
time  to  time  to  indicate  that  he  had 
throat  trouble. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  I  began, 
"  I  thank  you  for  this  goodly  attend- 
ance, and  beg  to  inform  you,  with  sin- 
cere regret,  that  our  Candidate  has  a 
severe  attack  of  tonsilitis  and  cannot 
talk!" 

(Cheers  and  cries  of  "  Good! 
Good!") 

•'  With  your  kind  indulgence  I  shall 
therefore  read  his  speech,  which,  be- 
lieve me,  is  an  oratorical  effort  such 
as  Demosthenes  might  be  proud  of 
and  which  Socrates  would  gladly  call 
his  own!  " 

(Loud  cheers,  during  which  Uncle 
Peter  smiled  and  took  a  bow.) 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen: — It  was 
mutually  agreed  upon  by  both  parties 
that  this  was  to  be  a  campaign  free 
from  personalities  and  mud-slinging, 
but  long  before  the  gong  sounded  old 


I  M   FiiOM   MISSOURI. 


49 


Sourface  Bill  Gray  lost  his  temper  and 
said  things  about  us  which  burned  his 
throat  as  they  came  out!" 

(Cries  of  "Kill  him!  kill  him!" 
which  caused  Uncle  Peter  to  hastily 
move  his  chair  back.) 

"  We  don't  believe  in  personalities 
or  mud-slinging,  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
but  we  will  give  $5,000  to  charity  if  old 
Bill  Gray's  heart  hasn't  a  complexion 
like  a  coal-heaver! " 

(Loud  applause.) 

"  If,  after  examination,  it  is  found 
that  his  heart  hasn't  a  complexion  like 
a  coal-heaver,  then  he  loses.  Dare  he 
accept  this  challenge? " 

(Loud  cries  of  "  Ask  me!  ") 

"  We  have  noticed,  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen, that  the  opposition  is  keen  to 
shower  compliments  on  the  women,  to 
the  utter  exclusion  of  the  men.  No 
man  may  say  with  impunity  that  Peter 
Grant  is  not  chivalry  itself  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  fair  sex,  but  is  it  justice  to 
the  men  to  lock  them  up  in  the  ice- 
house? 


^mm^^fi^m 


I  ^ 

I 


50 


i'm    from    MISSOURI. 


(Loud  cries  of  "  No!  no!  "  "  Let  us 
out!") 

"  Why  does  tlie  opposition  heap 
compHmcnts  on  Mama  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  Papa?  Is  this  true  pohtics?  Is 
this  the  vaunted  freedom  for  which  our 
fathers  fought  and  bled  their  country? 
A  miscreant,  a  marauder,  is  now,  in 
the  form  of  old  Bill  Gray,  leering  at  the 
ladies  and  seeking  with  sickly  smiles  to 
secure  their  sympathy!  " 

(Loud  applause  from  the  children, 
who  thought  I  was  beginning  a  fairy 

tale.) 

"  Why  does  the  opposition  continu- 
ally iterate  and  reiterate  the  question, 
'What  is  home  without  a  Mother?' 
They  have  made  this  the  one  great  po- 
litical issue  of  the  day.  Has  the  oppo- 
sition ever  stopped  to  ask,  '  What  is 
home  without  a  Papa? '  Never,  to  the 
everlasting  shame  of  the  opposition, 
never! " 

(Tremendous  excitement  and  loud 
cheers.) 

"  We  are  determined  to  have  justice 


1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


51 


in  this  campaign,  and  no  matter  upon 
whose  shoulders  the  blow  may  fall  we 
ask,  '  What's  the  matter  with  Dad? '  " 

(Loud  cries  of  "  He's  all  right!  You 
bet!") 

"  The  opposition  is  pleased  to  pre- 
face all  its  literature  in  this  campaign 
with  these  words,  '  God  bless  Home 
and  Mother! '  Now,  in  simple  justice 
to  the  founders  of  this  great  cradle  of 
freedom,  we  say  to  the  opposition,  how 
dare  you  kick  Father  off  the  front 
steps?  Why  isn't  Dad's  name  men- 
tioned on  the  bill  of  fare?  " 

(Cries  of  "Lynch  him!  Lynch  him!  " 
whereupon  Uncle  Peter  turned  pale 
and  pointed  at  his  sore  throat.) 

"  Who  is  it,  I  ask  you,  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  who  is  it  that  rises  at  early 
dawn,  lights  the  fire,  cooks  a  hard- 
boiled  egg  and  is  out  kicking  the  dew 
ofif  the  grass  while  Mother  is  still  chas- 
ing a  new  dress  through  the  valley  of 
Dreamland?   Dad! 

"  Who  is  it  that  has  to  buy  a  six- 
dollar  overcoat  and  then  has  to  chase 


.:9T»--^  Trr-ii'xrmrT 


y.^vT^jinspj^PTjjiitinBliiPi!; 

,...  V-  ^    hUi 

5a                  I'm    from    MISSOURI. 

out  to  the  barn  in  the  storm  and  let 
the  rain  melt  the  overcoat?    Dad! 

'h  I 


i.i 


"  Who  is  that  gathers  in  $18  of  a 
pay  day  and  has  to  hand  out  $22  of  it 
before  sunset?  Dad! 

"  Who  is  that  has  to  meet  the  grocer 
and  the  butcher  and  the  baker  and  the 
rent  collector  and  wear  out  his  voice 
trying  to  stand  them  off?    Dad! 

"  Who  buys  the  chicken  for  the  Sun- 
day dinner,  carves  it  himself  and  then 
draws  the  neck  from  the  discard  after 
every  one  else  is  served?   Dad! 

"  Who  meets  an  old  friend  he  hasn't 
seen  for  years,  hoists  in  a  few  dippers 
of  suds,  moseys  home  with  a  good-na- 
tured souse  only  to  find  that  Ma  makes 
him  sleep  on  the  ironing-board  in  the 
dining-room?  Dad! 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  we  believe 
'  What  is  home  without  a  Mother '  as 
a  campaign  issue  is  untenable,  and  we 
insist  that  'What  is  home  without  a 
Father?'  is  the  one  burning  question 
of  the  hour — a  question  which  has  re- 


iiiiiiiM^^iiii 


I'm    from    MISSOURI. 


S3 


mained  unanswered,  unhonored  and 
unsung  too  long  in  this  campaign!  " 

(Loud  and  continued  cheering,  many 
of  the  ladies  being  in  tears.) 

"  So,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  here's  to 
Dad!— the  silent  hero  of  the  house- 
hold! To  Dad,  the  willing  worker!  To 
Dad,  the  humblest  bit  of  bric-a-brac 
in  the  parlor!  To  Dad,  who  goes 
through  life  with  the  soft  pedal  on  the 


voice!    You   may  have   many 


faults 


dear  old  Dad,  and  you  may  play  second 
fiddle  with  the  mute  on,  but  we'll  miss 
you  when  you're  gone.  To  Dad,  la- 
dies and  gentlemen,  the  ace  in  life's 
pack  of  cards! " 

The  excitement  was  intense  when  I 
finished,  and  I  was  sure  that  old  Bill 
Gray  had  been  set  back  about  ten  feet 
in  the  estimation  of  the  populace. 
There  was  nothing  to  it. 

While  cheer  after  cheer  arose  Uncle 
Peter  whispered  hoarsely,  "  John,  you 
never  said  a  word  about  my  platform. 
I'll  have  to  explain  my  position  with 
regard  to  criminal  Trusts!  " 


54 


I  M    FROM    MISSOl'RI. 


s  1 


Wlien  Uncle  Peter  rose  to  address 
the  assemblage  I  noticed  a  tranger 
hurrying  hither  and  thith' r  through 
the  crowd,  whispering  in  the  ears  of 
the  men. 

Then,  just  as  our  Candidate  bowed 
amiably,  and  began,  "  Ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen," a  mighty  yell  went  up  and  in- 
stantly the  assemblage  broke,  dashed 
for  the  gate  and  cliarged  wildly  across 
lots  in  the  direction  of  the  river,  leav- 
ing as  an  audience  for  the  startled  Un- 
cle Peter  one  woman  and  three  babies. 

"  Mr.  Gray  sent  word  that  he  has 
tapped  eight  kegs  of  beer  in  the  ball 
grounds,"  the  woman  informed  me, 
"  b'.'t  my  children  ain't  got  no  thirst 
for  it  yet.  They'd  rather  watch  the  old 
gent  make  funny  faces!  " 

Uncle  Peter  collapsed  and  Aunt 
Martha  fanned  him  vigorously,  while 
Clara  J.  exclaimed  spitefully,  '^  That 
Bunch  JcfTcr.-on  is  a  perfect  fiend." 

"How  did  you  guess  it?"  I  said, 
tr\  ing  hard  not  to  smile. 


i 


"  There  are  eight  kepj  of  beer 
in  the  ball  grounds  I  " — Page  54 


-•^^i-T-.vijf.   _r..j:-.  .!;_■' 


CHAPTER  IV. 


JOHN  HENRY  MAKES  A  COMPACT. 

AS  election  day  drew  nearer  the 
fight  waxed  fiercer,  and  Ru- 
^     raldene  seemed  to  be  very 
evenly  divided  for  Gray  and 
for  Grant. 

Uncle  William  had  not  yet  attempted 
to  speak  in  public,  but  his  henchman, 
^unch,  was  about  the  busiest  mosquito 
that  ever  stung  a  face. 

That  boy  was  all  over  the  place. 
When  he  wasn't  handing  out  the  Con 
talk  to  the  mothers,  or  buying  candy 
for  the  kids,  he  was  down  in  the  Rye 
Resorts  helping  somebody's  tide  to 
come  in. 

And  I  might  as  well  tell  you  that  I 
wasn't  anybody's  ossified  man  myself. 
Bunch  and  I  hadn't  spoken  since  that 
eventful   morning  when  Uncle  Peter 


56 


I  M   FROM   MISSOURI. 


called  upon  me  to  uphold  the  honor  of 
the  family. 

We  sat  up  nights  sharpening  the  har- 
poons for  each  other,  and  it  got  so  that 
every  time  Bunch  loomed  up  on  the 
horizon  I  growled,  and  every  time  he 
saw  me  he'd  bark  and  run  the  other 
way. 

One  day  I  had  a  flash  of  Uncle  Will- 
iam, with  Bunch  and  Alice,  hiking  all 
over  town  in  an  automobile,  bowing 
and  smiling  and  throwing  the  glad  gaze 
at  the  populace. 

Uncle  William  was  steering  the  ben- 
zine buggy  and  putting  on  more  dog 
than  a  plate  of  sausages. 

A  neat  bit  of  stage  business,  and  tne 
old  geezer  made  good. 

It  was  up  to  me. 

I  ducked  for  the  long-distance  tele- 
phone, called  up  a  Bubble  shop  in 
New  York,  and  ordered  a  mot6r-car, 
painted  red,  white  and  blue,  sent  to  me 
in  Ruraldene  at  once. 

When  it  arrived  I  told  Uncle  Peter 
that  he  and  Aunt  Martha  must  snuggle 


.■:sZz^i:tr. 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


57 


down  in  the  busy  barouche  and  steer  if 
all  over  town. 

"  Try  to  go  some  place  where  the 
hoodlums  will  stone  you,"  I  advised. 
"  If  you  can  get  a  good  hard  wallop 
over  the  koko  with  a  rock  it  will  create 
an  awful  lot  of  sympathy  and  win  votes 
for  us!" 

Uncle  Peter  looked  the  benzine 
buggy  over  and  said,  "  Why  don't  yon 
run  the  machine,  John?  " 

"What!  you  want  me  to  run  the 
Bubble!"  I  exclaimed,  "and  let  the 
opposition  see  that  you're  a  shine 
chauffeur!  Nix,  Uncle  Peter;  you've  got 
to  get  busy  with  the  choo-choo  cart 
and  do  your  own  steering — for  the 
honor  of  the  family!  Don't  give  the 
public  a  chance  to  say  that  old  Bill 
Gray  is  the  only  guy  with  the  goggles 
that  can  blow  a  Bubble  through  the 
streets  of  Ruraldene!  The  rubber 
sweater  and  the  Dutch  awning  over  the 
forehead  for  yours  and  on  your  way!  " 

"  But,  John,"  protested  Uncle  Peter, 
*'  I  never  handled  a  machine  like  this 


Vi 


58 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


before.  Do  you  really  think  it  will 
make  much  difference  with  the  voters  if 
I  don't  show  mv  ability  as  a  chauf- 
feur.' " 

"Difference!"  I  repeated;  "why,  if 
you  don't  show  them  that  when  it 
comes  to  handling  an  automobuzzard 
you  have  old  Bill  Gray  stung  through 
the  porous  plaster,  then  it's  all  off! 
Hasn't  your  opponent  been  out  for 
hours  doing  the  grapevine  twist  and 
cutting  the  figure  eight  through  the 
business  portion  ot  town,  and  causing 
so  many  narrow  escapes  that  all  the 
doctors  in  the  district  are  watching 
him — with  their  fingers  crossed!  Cut 
loose,  Uncle  Peter,  for  the  honor  of 
the  family,  cut  loose!  " 

Finally,  with  much  reluctance,  our 
Candidate  and  Aunt  Martha  climbed 
into  the  Coal-oil  Coupe. 

I  gave  him  his  final  instructic^ns. 

"  Now,  Uncle  Peter,"  I  said,  "  grab 
that  wheel  in  front  of  you  firmly  with 
both  hands  and  put  one  foot  on  the  ac- 
celerator.   Now  put  the  other  foot  on 


..'l«^'>...jro.M 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


59 


the  rheostat  and  let  the  left  elbow 
gently  rest  on  the  deodizer.  Keep  the 
rubber  tube  connecting  with  the  auto- 
matic fog  whistle  closely  between  the 
teeth  and  let  the  right  elbow  be  in 
touch  with  the  quadruplex  while  the 
apex  of  the  left  knee  is  pressed  over 
the  spark  coil  and  the  right  ankle 
works  the  condenser." 

Uncle  Peter  groaned.  "  Why  don't 
you  put  my  left  shoulder  blade  to 
work,"  he  muttered;  "it's  the  only 
part  of  my  anatomy  that  hasn't  got  a 
job!  " 

"John,"  whispered  the  nervous 
Aunt  Martha,  "do  you  really  think 
Peter  has  to  do  this  in  order  to  be 
elected? " 

"  Sure,"  I  answered,  and  I  was  very 
serious  about  it.  "  Now,  Uncle  Peter, 
keep  both  eyes  on  the  road  in 
front  of  you  and  the  rest  of  your  face 
in  the  wagon.  Start  the  driving 
wheels,  repeat  slowly  the  name  of  your 
favorite  Coroner  and  leave  the  rest  to 
Fate!" 


:iSii!L^ 


lJill2r^ 


60 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


And  thus  they  started  out  in  the 
Whiz  Wagon. 

The  sequel  I  learned,  little  by  little, 
in  the  after  days. 

Before  they  had  rolled  alOiig  for  half 
a  mile  through  town,  the  machine  sud- 
denly began  to  breathe  fast  and  then, 
all  of  a  sudden,  it  choked  up  and 
stopped. 

"  Will  it  explode?"  whispered  Aunt 
Martha,  pleadingly. 

"  No,"  said  Uncle  Peter,  jumping 
out;  "  I  think  the  cosmopolitan  has 
buckled  with  the  trapezoid,"  and  then, 
with  a  monkey  wrench,  he  crawled  un- 
der the  machine  to  see  where  it  had 
the  appendicitis. 

As  soon  as  Uncle  Peter  crept  under 
the  bulworks  he  took  a  dislike  to  a 
brass  valve  and  began  to  knock  it  witH 
the  monkey  wrench,  Arhereupon  the 
valve  got  mad  at  him  and  upset  a  pint 
of  ancient  salad-oil  all  over  his  fea- 
tures. 

When  Uncle  Peter  recovered  con- 
sciousness the  Bubble  was  breathing 


"•■«<*■!:■**"    :Jtt     3»     1 


I 


.^^*'" 


I  M   FROM    MISSOURI. 


6l 


again,  so  he  jumped  to  the  helm-, 
pointed  the  bow  at  the  City  Hall,  and 
began  to  cut  the  grass. 

Alas!  however,  it  seemed  that  the 
demon  of  unrest  possessed  that  Coal- 
oil  Coupe,  for  it  soon  began  to  jump 
and  skip,  and  suddenly,  with  a  snort,  it 
took  the  river  road  and  scooted  away 
from  town. 

Uncle  Peter  patted  it  on  the  back 
and  spoke  soothingly,  but  it  was  no 
use. 

Aunt  Martha  pleaded  with  him  to 
keep  in  near  the  shore,  because  she 
was  getting  seasick;  but  her  tears  were 
in  vain. 

"  You  must  appear  calm  and  indif- 
ferent in  the  presence  of  danger,"  mut- 
tered Uncle  Peter  as  they  rushed 
madly  into  the  bosom  of  a  flock  of 
cows. 

But  luck  was  with  them,  for  with  a 
turn  of  ♦^he  wrist  Uncle  Peter  jumped 
the  Bubble  across  the  road,  and  all  he 
could  feel  was  the  sharp  swish  of  an 
old  cow's  tail  across  his  cheek  as  they 


6a 


1  M   FROM    MISSOURI. 


rushed  on  and  out  of  that  animal's  life 
forever. 

Aunt  Martha  tried  to  be  brave  and 
to  chat  pleasantly.  "  How  is  Wall 
Street  these  days?"  she  asked,  and 
just  then  the  machine  struck  a  stone 
and  she  went  up  in  the  air. 

"  Unsettled,"  answered  Uncle  Peter 
when  she  got  back,  and  then  there  was 
an  embarrassing  silence. 

To  try  to  hold  a  polite  conversation 
on  a  Bubble  in  full  flight  is  very  much 
like  trying  to  repeat  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  while  falling  out  the 
seventh-story  window. 

Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  the  machine 
struck  a  chord  in  G  and  started  for 
Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  at  the  rate  of 
7,000,000  miles  a  minute. 

Aunt  Martha  threw  her  arms  around 
Uncle  Peter's  neck,  he  threw  his  neck 
around  the  lever,  the  lever  tlirew  him 
over,  and  they  both  threw  a  fit. 

Down  the  road  ahead  of  them  a  man 
and  his  wife  were  quarreling.  They 
were  so  much  in  earnest  that  they  did 


Hi 


IM    FROM    MISSOURI. 


63 


not  hear  the  Bubble  sneaking  swiftly 
up  on  rubber  tires. 

As  the  machine  was  about  to  fall 
upon  the  quarreling  man  and  wife  Un- 
cle Peter  squeezed  a  couple  of  hoarse 
"Toot  toots!"  from  the  horn,  where- 
upon the  woman  in  the  road  threw  up 
both  hands  and  leaped  for  the  man. 
The  man  threw  up  both  feet  and  leaped 
for  the  fence. 

The  last  Aunt  Martha  saw  of  them 
they  were  entering  their  modest  home 
neck  and  neck,  and  the  divorce  court 
lost  a  bet. 

Then  the  machine  began  to  climb 
a  telegraph  pole,  and  as  it  ran  down 
the  other  side  Aunt  Martha  wanted  to 
know  for  the  tenth  time  if  it  would 
explode. 

"  How  did  John  tell  you  to  handle 
it?"  she  shrieked,  as  the  Bubble  bit  its 
way  through  a  stone  fence  and  began 
to  dance  a  two-step  over  a  strange 
man's  lawn. 

"  The  only  way  to  handle  this  infer- 
nal machine  is  to  soak  it   in  water," 


\rr 


64 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


yelled  Uncle  Peter  as  they  hit  the  main 
road  again. 

"  I  don't  see  how  this  can  get  you 
any  votes;  there  isn't  a  soul  looking," 
moaned  Aunt  Martha. 

"  Oh!  if  I  could  only  be  arrested  for 
fast  riding  and  get  this  thing  stopped," 
wailed  Uncle  Peter  as  they  headed  for 
the  river. 

"  Let  me  out!  let  me  out!  "  pleaded 
Aunt  Martha,  and  the  machine  seemed 
to  hear  her,  for  it  certainly  obliged  the 
lady. 

I  found  out  afterwards  that  in  order 
to  make  good  with  Aunt  Martha  the 
Bubble  jumped  up  in  the  air  and  turned 
a  double  handspring,  during  the  course 
of  which  the  Candidate  and  his  wife 
fell  out  and  landed  in  the  most  gener- 
ously inclined  mud-puddle  in  that  part 
of  the  state. 

Then  the  Coal-oil  Coupe  turned 
around  and  barked  at  them,  and  with  a 
whisk  of  its  tail  scooted  for  home. 

When  Uncle  Peter  and  Aunt  Martha 
finally    reached    the    villa    they   were 


-i-»TiSsr«i?;x- 


The  Bubble  turned 

a  double  handspring. — Page  64. 


3^ 


^^ws^  ' 


\   ' 


^f^&y^'  f-*""" 


I  M    FROM    MISSOIRI. 


(s 


sights;  but  before  the  old  gentleman 
could  register  his  kick  we  were  inter- 
rupted by  a  messenger,  who  brought 
the  following  typewritten  document : 

Challenge! 

The  Committee  which  is  conducting 
the  gentlemanly  canvass  now  being 
made  by  the  Hon.  William  Gray  for 
Mayor  of  Ruraldene  believes  that  the 
Hon.  Peter  (irant,  the  opposing  Candi- 
date, has  not  a  leg  to  stand  on,  and  in 
tlie  furtlierance  of  this  belief  hereby 
challenges  tlie  Hon.  Peter  Grant  to 
meet  the  Hon.  William  Gray  in  joint 
debate,  to  be  held  in  the  public  square 
on  tiie  eve  of  election,  next  Monday 
week,  at  8  P.  M.  The  probabilities  are 
that  the  Hon.  Peter  Grant  will  not  put 
in  an  appearance. 

(Signed)       Bcnch  Jefferson, 

Chairman  of  Committee. 

"Won't  put  in  an  appearance!" 
yelled  Uncle  Peter.  "  I  won't,  eh?  I'll 
hay  him  alive!  I'll  make  old  Bill  Gray 
wish  he  had  never  been  born!  " 

'•  Make  mine  the  same,"  I  said,  as  I 
shook  Unde  Peter's  hand. 


CHAPTER  V. 


JOHN  HENRY  M.AKES  A  NOTE. 

THE  news  of  the  proposed 
joint  debate  spread  like  wild- 
fire, and  it  soon  became  pat- 
ent that  whoever  won  the 
rag-chewing  contest  would  also  win  the 
election. 

Every  morning  Uncle  Peter  would 
lock  himself  up  in  his  library  and  pre- 
pare verbal  gunshot  with  which  to  pop- 
per Uncle  William  when  the  night  of 
nights  arrived. 

Of  course,  Uncle  William  played  the 
same  cards  and  spent  hours  daily  in 
his  word  factory  turning  out  tart  re- 
marks with  which  to  stiog  Uncle  Pe- 
ter. 

The  excitement  grew  apace,  and 
everybody  took  sides,  from  the  infant 
in  arm?  up  tc  the  octogenarian. 

One  morning  I  witnessed  a  meeting 


The  Delegation. — Page  66 


I  i 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


67 


between  our  German  grocer's  boy  with 
the  Grant  button  pinned  to  his  calico 
shirt  and  the  red-headed  kid  who  had 
pinched  Uncle  Peter's  first  speech,  the 
latter  with  the  Gray  ribbon  tied  around 
his  suspender. 

"  What  arc  you  wearin'  that  button 
for?  You  ain't  got  no  vote,"  sneered 
Reddy. 

"Oh!  I  don't  know,"  answered 
Dutchy,  "  I'm  carryin'  just  aoout  as 
much  steam  as  you  are.  Pipe  the  rag 
on  the  braces!  What  is  it,  the  Rus- 
sian flag?  " 

"  You  seem  to  think  old  Peter  Grant 
is  all  the  eggs,  don't  you?  "  said  Reddy. 
"  Well,  he  ain't  the  only  pie  on  the 
counter — the  tlies  can  get  to  him,  all 
right!" 

"  Is  that  so! "  answered  Dutchy; 
*'  you  think  you're  pretty  warm  weath- 
er, don't  you?  " 

"  Oh,  maybe,  but  I  ain't  no  gas-stove 
like  you!  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  you  doin'  no 
home-cookin'!  " 


68 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


"  That's  l)ecause  your  lamps  is 
smoky.  You  want  to  get  somebody  to 
rub  water  on  you  with  a  hose!  " 

"Uh!  you  ain't  the  Worhl's  Fair — 
you  can  be  crowded!  "  said  Dutchy. 

"  You  have  a  swell  bunch  of  come- 
backs, haven't  you?"  Reddy  snapped. 
"  You  must've  been  listenin'  to  a  ball 


game 


"  I  don't  see  your  license  to  look 
wise,"  the  other  answered.  "  Where's 
the  medal  you  got  for  keepin'  out  of 
the  Foolish  House!  " 

■■  Fm  so  hot  Fd  melt  it;  Fve  got  on 
fireproof  underclothes." 

"  What's  the  matter  with  water- 
proof? " 

"  Don't  let  that  put  you  off  the  car. 
Fm  still  able  to  read  the  news  to  you, 
all  right!" 

■■  Oh,  perhaps!  " 

"  What's  the  matter;  ain't  you  got  no 
more  bum  wheezes  to  pull?  " 

"  Oh,  frequently!  You  ain't  Port  Ar- 
thur— you  can  be  reached  in  a  few 
days! " 


IM    FROM    MISSOURI. 


69 


"  Mebbe,  but  you  ain't  the  only  low 
collar  in  the  laundry — you  can  be 
turned  down!  " 

"  Sometimes — but  not  by  the  Chink 
in  the  look-out!  " 

Then  they  went  at  it,  hammer  and 
tongs,  and  it  took  Hank  about  five 
minutes  to  separate  them. 

An  hour  or  so  later,  as  I  sat  on  the 
veranda  trying  to  figure  out  some  way 
to  finish  the  campaign  in  a  blaze  of 
Grant  glory,  I  overheard  old  Barney 
Doolin,  our  stableman,  airing  his  po- 
litical views  for  Hank  the  gardener's 
benefit. 

"  The  daysire  for  political  prayfer- 
ment  is  so  shtrong  in  some  min,"  Bar- 
ney was  saying,  "  that  they  can't  kape 
shtill  unless  they's  runnin'  for  office." 

"Oh,  much  better!"  answered 
Hank;  "the  attakt  only  lasted  two 
days  with  Genevive,  but  the  second 
youngest  is  ailin'  with  her  teeth!  " 

Supremely  unconscious  of  this  irrel- 
evant interruption,  Barney  gazed  away 


:./.:», 


70 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


over  the  meadows  and  proceeded  with 
his  sohloquy: 

"  Take  that  old  felly,  William  Gray," 
he  said,  reflectively;  "  sure  he  thinks  he 
ought  to  be  a  shtatesman  just  because 
he  have  money  enough  in  his  overalls 
to  pay  his  fare  to  Washington." 

Hank  sat  down  in  the  shade  and 
Barney  went  on :  "  My  favoright  Sina- 
tor  in  politics  is  Chancey  Daypew,  and 
I'm  hopin'  to  sec  the  day  whin  him  and 
ould  Peter  Grant  will  mate  within  the 
Halls  of  Congress  and  git  to  jokin'  aich 
other  till  the  bur-r-rd  of  liberty  falls  off 
its  perch  with  a  stitch  in  the  side. 

"Sure  'twas  a  glad  day  for  the  Sinate 
whin  Chancey  shtrolled  in  there  with 
his  basket  of  wheezes,  and  it'll  be  a 
pr-roud  day  for  Ameriky  whin  ould  Pe- 
ter Grant  walks  out  on  the  tlure  apd 
dares  anywan  prisinf  to  make  a  riddle 
him  or  Chancey  can't  answer. 

"  No  more  knock-downs  and  drag- 
outs  whin  thim  two  laddiebucks  gets 
together  in  the  Sinate.  No  more  yellin' 
fer  the  police  an'  heggin'  Hivven  to 


I'm   from    MISSOURI. 


7« 


send  the  pathrol-wagon — none  iv  that. 
Chancey  and  Peter  will  br-ring  a  din- 
ner pail  full  iv  jokes  to  the  Sinate 
house,  an'  says  they, '  Have  a  gag  with 
us,  gintlemen;  'tis  our  trate.' 

"  An'  whin  Sinator  Hoar  gits  up  an' 
says, '  Gintlemin  iv  the  Sinate,  the  hell- 
hounds iv  impairlism  is  on  our  thrack, 
an'  they's  blood  on  the  face  iv  the 
moon,'  Chancey  will  ar-rise,  houldin* 
his  sides  with  the  laughter  that's  on 
his  face,  an'  he  will  address  the  Sinate, 
*  Mr.  Pr-rcsident  an'  gintlemin,'  says 
he, '  why,'  says  he, '  why  is  a  door  not  a 
door? '  says  he;  '  because,'  says  he,  an- 
swerin'  his  own  question,  '  because  it 
ain't  a  windy,'  says  he,  an'  they's  a 
bur-rst  iv  applause  ascinds  to  the 
dome.  *  An'  why,'  says  ould  Peter 
Grant,  pushin'  Chancey  back  in  his 
chair,  and  handin'  the  Sinators  another 
wan  befoor  they  gits  time  to  cool  off, 
'why  do  a  chicken  cross  the  strate?' 
says  he.  They's  silence  fer  a  moment. 
Chancey  is  sittin'  there  pullin'  his  side 
whishkers  an'  enjoyin'  the  excitemint. 


72 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


'  An'  why,'  says  Sinator  Gor-nnan,  like 
the  middle  man  in  the  minshtrels, '  why 
do  a  chicken  cross  the  strate?'  '  Be- 
cause,' says  ould  Peter  Grant, '  because 
some  wan  is  chasin'  it,'  says  he,  an'  a 
roar  goes  up  that  makes  the  Washin'- 
ton  monnymint  tr-remble. 

"  With  this  Sinator  Hale  goes  out  in 
the  lobby  an'  sets  on  a  tack  so's  to  ca'm 
himsilf,  an'  Chancey  says, '  Mr.  Pr-resi- 
dent  an'  gintlemin  iv  the  Sinate,'  says 
he, '  why,'  says  he,  '  why  is  the  Panama 
Canal  like  a  saloon  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
mornin'? '  *  I  dinnaw,'  says  the  Prisi- 
dent  of  the  Sinate,  '  why  is  the  Panama 
Canal  like  a  saloon  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
mornin?'  'Because,'  says  Chancey, 
'  because  it'll  soon  be  open,'  and  with 
this  Sinator  Hale  gits  up.  '  A  has 
Chancey! '  shouts  the  Sinator.  '  A 
bass  ale!'  shouts  ould  Peter  Grant, 
'  let's  pass  a  bunch  of  bills,'  says  he, 
'  you're  right,  Peter,'  says  Chancey, 
'let's  pass  a  bunch  of  bills,'  says  he; 
'  bein'  an*  ould  railroad  man,  I  know  a 
great  dale  about  passes,'  says  he.  an' 


1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


73 


befoor  Sinaior  Hale  can  come  to  the 
rescue  foortecn  pinsion  bills  is  passed 
an'  the  hell  hounds  iv  impairlism  have 
got  Sinator  Hoar  down  an'  are  chewin' 
the  shoe  leather  oflf'n  him.  'Twill  be  a 
gr-reat  day  fer  the  Sinate  whin  Chan- 
cey  Daypew  gits  ould  Peter  Grant 
there  with  him." 

T  don't  know  just  where  Barney's 
political  dream  finally  landed  him,  tor 
at  this  moment  a  delegation  of  ward 
workers  waited  upon  me,  so  I  had  to 
go  for  the  checkbook  and  have  a 
coughing  spell. 

"  Dis  man,  Bunch  Chefferson,  is 
vorking.  vorking,  vorking  to  remove 
der  Society  wote,"  Conrad  Puffenlotz, 
my  lieutenant  in  the  fourth  ward,  in- 
formed me. 

*'  I've  been  wise  to  that  gag  for  some 
time,  Conrad,"  I  answered. 

"  Should  we  gif  a  pink  tea  or  some- 
ding  like  a  lawn  feet  or  a  monkey  din- 
ner to  get  Society  on  our  side?"  in- 
quired Conrad  earnestly. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I've  got  a  better  and 


74 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


less  expensive  plan.  You  know  Mr. 
Bunch  Jefferson  thinks  he's  the  best 
little  Society  man  that  ever  walked  be- 
hind a  white  vest.  He's  got  an  idea  in 
his  noddle  that  the  Social  push  has  put 
up  his  photo  on  every  mantel,  and  now 
it'.>  up  to  nic  to  cure  him." 

"  How  could  you  (lit  it?  "  asked  Con- 
rad, while  the  other  willing  workers 
went  after  the  bug  bitters. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  I  answered. 
"  I've  cooked  up  a  bunch  of  shine  So- 
ciety advice  which  is  supposed  to  have 
been  written  by  Bunch.  I've  had  lO,- 
ooo  cards  printed  with  this  phon>  pat- 
ter thereon,  and  when  the  Society  la- 
dies get  a  peep  at  it  Bunch  will  be  on 
his  way  to  the  mines.  Bunch  has 
pulled  off  a  lot  of  mouldy  tricks  on  me 
and  now  it's  my  play  to  chase  him  to 
the  woods." 

Then  I  sprung  on  them  this  sample 
of  my  campaign  literature: 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


75 


How  TO  Bi:iiA\ (.  WITH  Etiquette. 

Written  by  Bunch  Jefferson. 

(And  dedicated  to  his  many  friends  in 
Society.) 


The  author  hopes  that  his  many 
friends  in  Society  will  avail  themselves 
of  this  opportunity  to  become  thor- 
oughly conversant  with  the  proper 
rules  of  deportment  as  set  down  here- 
with.— B.  Jefferson. 


Rule  I. — When  entering  Society  al- 
wa>  s  walk  with  the  feet  outstretched. 

Rule  II. — When  mingling  with  Soci- 
ety always  keep  the  right  hand  on  the 
pocket-book  and  throw  the  left  care- 
lessly over  the  watch  and  chain.  This 
tlelays  suspicion. 

Rule  III. — When  leaving  Society  al- 
ways walk  backward  and  trust  to  luck. 

Rule  IV. — When  the  hostess  intro- 
duces you  to  a  lady  always  inquire  po- 
litely what  her  age  is.  If  she  tells  you 
in    small    figures    raise    the    evebrows 


r.w--^',  -: 


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III 

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1653   East   Main   Street 
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76 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


with  a  sliglit  doubt.  If  she  doesn't 
answer  she  is  no  lady. 

Rule  V. — When  you  rise  from  the 
pink  tea  table  to  take  a  smoke  never 
strike  a  match  on  the  back  of  the  hos- 
tess. 

Rule  \'I. — Always  drink  tea  with 
the  face.  To  drop  it  in  between  the 
neck-tie  and  the  top  of  the  waist-coat 
is  very  selfish. 

Rule  Vn. — Nevei  eat  fresh-laid 
pickles  with  a  spoon.  This  is  one  of 
the  most  pitiful  mistakes  that  a  man 
could  make  in  Society.  Use  the 
thumb  and  the  little  finger,  squeezing 
the  victim  slightly  until  it  is  still  and 
motionless.    Then  bite  it  without  fear. 

Rule  VIII. — During  an  argument  at 
the  table  with  the  host  never  try  to 
score  a  point  by  throwing  your  plate 
at  him.  Always  throw  the  butter.  It 
spreads  wider  and  lasts  longer  to  get  it 
olT. 

Rule  IX. — When  you  have  placed 
your  napkin  around  your  neck  just  be- 
fore dinner  never  ask  for  a  safety  pin. 
Stick  a  fork  through  it  and  wade  in. 

Rule  X. — One  of  the  cutest  ways  to 
go  after  the  bt.tiis  is  with  a  wooden 
toothpick.  This  custom  has  descended 
from  the  inventor  of  the  Chinese  chop- 


m 


--*-  — ^»^--~Y*  - 


BMii?wy"fta^"4iy-'--^ 


IM    FROM    MISSOURI. 


77 


Sticks,  and  it  makes  very  interesting 
eating. 

Rule  XI. — To  eat  soup  through  a 
straw  is  a  new  idea,  but  only  those 
wiio  are  not  in  a  hurry  will  find  much 
enjoyment  in  this  plan.  The  best  way 
is  to  get  mad  at  the  soup,  then  get  a 
piece  of  bread  and  soak  it. 

Rule  XII. — Always  at  a  Society  wed- 
ding be  sure  to  kiss  the  bride.  The 
best  way  to  kiss  her  is  before  the  cere- 
mony, because  afterwards  the  kisses 
belong  to  another  gentleman,  possibly 
her  husband. 

Rule  XIII. — When  dinner  is  over 
never  ask  the  hostess  what  is  for  break- 
fast. It  is  vulgar  to  be  so  hungry  in 
public. 

Rule  XIV. — Never  use  your  throat 
to  remove  the  bones  from  a  fish.  It 
sounds  too  unhappy. 

Rule  XV. — Be  careful  to  wear  pale, 
white  kid  gloves  at  a  wedding.  Kids 
are  always  the  national  emblem  of  a 
wedding. 


The  little  band  of  willing  workers 
howled  with  delight  when  I  finished 


78 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


A 


reading,  all  save  Conrad  who  said, 
earnestly,  "  Mein  lieber  Chon,  vy 
should  you  blame  such  nice  ideas  on 
dis  Bunch  Cheflferson?  Society  vill  like 
him  better  for  dis,  yes?  " 

"  Society  won't  do  a  thing  to  him," 
I  chuckled. 

"  Veil  it  is  fine  knowledge  to  know 
how  t^  remove  bones  from  a  fish," 
Conrad  insisted.  "  Und  maybe  So- 
ciety should  be  glad  to  learn  how  to 
eat  soup  through  a  straw.  Perhaps  dis 
card  is  a  boomderang,  yes!  " 

Before  I  could  convince  Conrad  that 
my  idea,  while  somewhat  cruel,  bore 
traces  of  originality,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Macey  arrived  to  take  tea  with  us  and 
was  greeted  cordially  by  the  family. 

We  were  all  sitting  around  the 
veranda,  discussing  the  outlook  and 
chatting  pleasantly,  everybody  with 
one  ear  primed  for  the  supper  bell, 
when  Lizzie  Joyce,  the  irrepressible,  put 
in  an  agitated  appearance.  Once  more 
the  lid  trimmed  with  prairie  grass  fell 
over  her  left  eye  and  the  grouchy  grip 


^-t'-'^j'iJi'y.i^e^at 


IM    FROM    MISSOURI. 


79 


kept  company  with  the  freckled  para- 
sol. 

"I  give  you  my  notice,  Mem;  I'm 
leavin'  this  minute,"  she  said  to  the 
embarrassed  Aunt  Martha. 

"  What's  the  matter  now,  woman, 
what's  the  matter,  eh?"  asked  Uncle 
Peter,  hungry  and  irritated. 

Before  Lizzie  could  frame  a  come- 
back Clara  J.  stepped  in  the  breach. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Lizzie?  "  asked 
Peaches,  soothingly. 

"  Sure  'tis  a  dream  I  had  last  night 
that  came  back  to  me  whilst  I  was 
bastin'  the  chicken,"  Lizzie  answered. 
"  In  me  dream  I  was  kidnapped,  and 
they's  so  m.uch  political  palaverin'  goin' 
on  around  here  maybe  it'll  come  true!  " 

"  V/ho'd  kidnap  you,  woman? " 
sneered  Uncle  Peter. 

"  Well,  you  never  can  tell,"  Lizzie 
answered  quietly.  "  They's  a  lot  of 
woozy  old  millionaires  hangin'  around 
these  days  tryin'  to  get  their  money 
well  cared  for.    I'm  takin'  no  chances." 

That  was  about  all  for  Uncle  Peter, 


^^m^rM 


^M^l 


80 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


V 
I' 


t\ 


and  presently  the  excitable  Lizzie  was 
led  peacefully  back  to  the  kitchen  by 
Clara  J. 

But  Lizzie's  dream  gave  me  an  idea 
that  took  my  appetite  away. 


m:s^;i^Bm^^:^^ti 


• ,    'V 1 


J:L,.^i^^^ 


CHAPTER  VI. 


TOHX  HENRY  MAKES  A  HOLIDAY. 


THE  next  morning,  bright  and 
early,  I  had  Barney  Doolin 
at  work  painting  our  auto- 
mobile the  exact  colors  of 
the  machine  owned  by  the  Hon.  Wil- 
liam Gray. 

I  was  beginning  to  hatch  my  dark 
and  devilish  plot. 

This  was  Saturday,  and  since  early 
morning  a  score  of  boys  roamed  all 
over  town,  distributing  the  10,000  cards 
whereon  was  printed  "  Bunch's  Advice 
to  Society." 

The  cards  made  an  awful  hit.  Nine 
citizens  out  of  every  ten  didn't  know 
whether  it  was  straight  goods  or  a  josh, 
but  after  reading  the  card  over  for  the 
second  time  nearly  everybody  con- 
cluded that  the  strenuous  campaign 
had  overcrowded  Bunch's  mental  seat- 


r 


r^-r>  V  rf^:xi'S''%xjrjr3 


!^''j-^  i 


82 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


t 


ing  capacity  and  that  he  had  gone 
dippy. 

When  the  afternoon  paper,  the 
Ruraldene  Palladium,  made  its  appear- 
ance, it  contained  a  paid  get-back  from 
Bunch  on  tl.e  first  page,  and  it  was 
surely  a  dizzy  dish  of  words. 

Ruraldene,  as  everybody  knows,  is 
an  extremely  popular  suburban  town 
and  is  sometimes  called  "  The  Commu- 
ter's Paradise."  It  consists  of  a  bust- 
ing "  business  centre"  and  beyond  this, 
dotting  the  green  in  all  directions,  are 
the  villas  and  country  homes  of  the 
suburbanites. 

It  \xz^  through  our  army  of  Commu- 
ters that  Bunch  tried  to  reach  me. 

This  is  what  he  had  in  the  afternoon 
paper: 

"  Voters  and  citizens  of  Ruraldene : 
There  is  in  our  midst  an  ardent  sup- 
porter and  adherent  of  the  Hon.  Peter 
Grant  who  spends  most  of  his  time  be- 
smirching the  fair  name  of  the  Commu- 
ter. This  man  is  the  author  of  a  lit- 
erary stab  in  the  Suburbanite's  back, 


^^mm^mwwmm.^imm ; 


I  M    FROM    .MISSOURI. 


«3 


a  copy  of  which  has  recently  come  into 
our  possession  and  which  is  pubHslicd 
herewith  to  prove  its  author's  villainv, 
and  to  warn  the  voters  who  may  well 
ask  '  If  Peter  Grant's  henchman  be- 
littles the  Commuter  in  this  cruel 
n-.anner  what  will  Mayor  Grant  do  to 
them?'  We  give  space  to  this  cruel 
slanderer's  effusion  that  our  citizen 
Commuters  may  be  on  their  guard 
hereafter: 


"  THE  COMMUTER." 


3 


(By  John  Henry.) 

"Mirabel!" 

"  Yes,  dear,"  answered  the  Commu- 
ter's wife. 

"  The  Suburbanite  pins  his  faith  to 
a  railroad  schedule  only  to  find  that 
somebody  pinches  the  pin!  " 

'*  Yes,  Claudius,"  the  wife  answered. 

"  ^lirabel!  the  Commuter's  life  is  a 
moving  one  and  full  of  cinders !  " 

"Yes,  Claudius!" 

"Mirabel!" 

Commuter  Goosedipper  paused  and 
shook  the  family  growler  slowly  from 
side  to  side. 


84 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


4-1 


"  Yt's,  Claudius,"  the  faithful  wife  re- 
sponded. 

•'  It  is  now  a  little  less  than  daylight 
on  Monday  morning,"  he  said;  "  and  I 
must  leave  Insomniahurst  and  go  forth 
to  the  great  city  where  I  get  my 
wages." 

Goosedipper  sighed  and  squeezed  the 
pitcher. 

"And  to-day  the  Chokeup  and  Crawl- 
along  R.  R.  takes  off  fourteen  more 
trains!  "  he  gasped. 

"  Claudius!  "  the  wife  exclaimed,  pale 
from  one  end  of  her  face  to  the  other. 

'•  To-day  I  must  go  forth  on  a  train 
which  will  look  no  more  upon  In- 
somniahurst until  many  bitter  years 
have  faded  into  the  elsewhere,"  he 
muttered  all  foam-bedecked  into  the 
pitcher. 

"  And  must  I  lose  you  so  soon?"  said 
the  good  wife,  bursting  into  tears. 

■'  It  is  the  will  of  Fate,"  he  said. 

"  The  years  will  be  long  between  us," 
she  said,  sobbing  with  her  voice. 

•'  Yes,  but  I  will  telegraph  you 
money  once  in  a  while,"  he  whispered, 
restraining  the  impulse  to  cross  his 
fingers. 

"  Oh!  the  awful  suburban  railroad 
svstem,"   she   shuddered,   "  separating 


i  ' 


1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


85 


the  wife  from  the  lui^haiul  and  the 
father  from  the  cliildron  he  can  never 
know  in  their  infancy!  " 

"  Tcacli  the  children  not  to  forj^et  me 
while  1  am  away  in  the  ot^cc,"  said 
Goosedipper,  eagerly. 

"  I  will,  Claudius,  it  I  have  to  do  it 
with  a  shawl  strap,"  said  the  loving 
wife. 

Then  Goosedipper  arose. 

"  Let  me  look  around  the  old  home 
once  again  before  I  go  away  to  duty  on 
the  7:09  accommodation,  which  runs 
eagerly  like  a  rabbit,  hither  and  thither, 
and  no  where  in  particular!  " 

Together  with  his  wife,  hand  in  hand, 
followed  by  the  cat  and  the  little  (  jOosc- 
dippers,  the  brave  Commuter  took  a 
parting  walk  among  his  household. 

And  when  his  emotion  overcame  him 
and  he  stepped  not  unkindly  but 
heavily  withal  upon  the  cat  the  scene 
was  too  pitiful  for  words. 

It  was  a  touching  sight  to  see  them. 

Then  with  a  sob  Goosedipper 
grabbed  his  lunchbox  and  was  gone. 


"  I  caught  a  train  many  years  ago 
but  we  had  to  change  cars  at  Salt  Lake 
Citv,  so  I  came  home  bv  the  wav  of 


86 


I  M    FROM    MlSSOlfRI. 


> 


Bangor.  MaiiU',"  was  the  only  explana- 
tion the  C'onmuiter  niaile. 

"  Don't  apologize,  Claudius,"  said 
the  loving  wife.  ■  I  knew  you  would 
be  home  some  day  if  you  had  to  wait 
for  the  I'anama  Canal  to  get  finished." 

Such  is  the  simple  faith  of  the  Com- 
muters. 

"  Where  is  Spartacus?"  said  Goose- 
di|)per.  "  When  I  left  you  he  was  our 
oldest  son.  I  hope  no  change  has  hap- 
pened to  him,  Mirabel?  The  day  before 
I  went  on  the  7:09  train  little  Spartacus 
put  on  his  first  knickerhocker  pants. 
\\'here  is  he? 

"  That  was  many  years  ago,"  sighed 
the  wife.  "  When  Spartacus  grew  old 
enough  to  learn  the  schedule  of  the 
trains  he  swore  never  to  leave  home 
until  the  railroads  made  some  arrange- 
ment to  get  him  back  again,  and  so  he 
is  now  a  hermit." 

"A  hermit?"  inquired  Gooscdipper; 
"  what  is  a  hermit?  " 

"A  hermit,"  answered  the  wife;  "a 
hermit  is  a  Commuter  who  loves  his 
home  too  well  to  commute." 

"  And  little  Augustus  Appius,  where 
is  he?"  inquired  the  husband  after  a 
while. 

"  Little  Augustus  Appirs  has  grown 


1' 


J-^- 


I  M    FkOM    MlSh(il  Ul. 


87 


uji  and  developed  the  brain  of  a  deep 
thinker,"  said  the  wife.  "  With  ten 
years  more  stndy  he  will  l)c  able  to 
think  deep  enongh  to  invent  a  sulnir- 
ban  train  that  will  have  the  sense  and 
the  courage  to  keep  on  going  till  it 
reaches  the  place  it  started  for." 

*'  Ves,  Claudius,"  continued  the  wife, 
"our  little  Appius  is  a  scientist.  Kvery 
time  he  reads  about  a  new  idea  he  sits 
down  and  invent?  it!  He  is  now  work- 
ing on  a  useless  pole  for  the  wireless 
telegraph." 

Tlie  husband  went  out  on  a  thunder 
strike. 

"My,  my,  my!"  said  Goosedipper. 
"  1  go  away  on  the  Chokeup  &  Crawl- 
along  R.  R.,  and  before  I  get  back  my 
children  grow  up  and  get  famous.  Such 
is  the  suburban  railroad  svstem! 
Where  is  little  Gladiolus?  When  I  lelt 
she  was  the  youngest.  I  hope  she  did 
not  change  her  mind  di.ring  mv  ab- 
sence? 

"  Xo,"  said  the  wife,  "  but  she  has 
grown  up  to  be  a  car-shy  girl !  " 

"  Car-shy?"  echoed  her  husband. 

"Yes,"  responded  the  wife;  "once 
when  she  was  just  a  little  child  I 
thought  I  heard  the  shriek  of  a  locomo- 
tive, and  I  fainted  with  surprise.  It  was 


.r«' 


^^^^^.:^mmM^^^^m^- 


88 


I  M   FROM    MISSOURI. 


f) 


a  false  alarm  because  the  shriek  was 
made  by  the  patent  medicine  brewery 
over  behind  the  hill,  but  the  scene  made 
a  deep  impression  on  Gladiolus.  Ever 
since  that  moment  she  throws  a  fit 
when  anybody  mentions  a  railroad 
train  because  she  doesn't  believe  there 
is  such  a  thing  in  the  world.  But  I  have 
sad  and  bitter  news  for  you,  Claudius! 
Do  you  remember  the  cat  you  stepped 
on  that  day  so  long  ago  when  you  went 
away  to  -vork  for  your  wages?  Well, 
it  died  two  years  after  you  took  the 
7:09  accommodation.  It  went  out  in 
the  village  street  to  look  at  some 
grocerif'^.  The  groceries  belonged  to 
a  family  three  doors  below  us  in  the 
next  field.  So  did  the  hammer  that 
killed  the  cat." 

"The  growler?"  whispered  Goose- 
dipper. 

"I  have  it  yet  as  you  left  it!"  she 
replied. 

"  Chase  it!  "  was  all  he  said. 


Bunch  fell  down  on  his  scheme  of 
revenge,  because  the  only  man  who 
reads  the  local  afternoon  paper  in  Ru- 


I'm    from    MISSOURI. 


raldene  had  to  go  to  New  York  on  busi- 
ness that  day. 

Uncle  Peter  spent  hour  after  hour 
in  the  Ubrary,  arranging  and  rearrang- 
ing the  oratorical  brickbats  with  which 
he  intended  to  demohsh  Uncle  Wil- 
liam's citadel  at  the  joint  debate  Mon- 
day night. 

In  the  meantime  the  tovvn  was  seeth- 
ing with  anticipation,  and  all  kinds  of 
rumors  were  flying  about. 

The  Gray  faction  started  the  story 
that  Uncle  Peter  had  suddenly  declined 
to  meet  his  opponent  in  joint  debate, 
so  it  was  up  to  me  to  start  another 
story  to  the  eflfect  that  old  Bill  Gray 
had  imported  219  Dago  floaters,  and 
had  opened  a  night  school  in  his  barn 
where  Bunch  Jefferson  was  teaching 
the  Guineas  enough  English  to  get  by 
the  challengers  on  election  day. 

I  think  that  sent  them  to  the  rock 
pile. 

Saturday  night  we  had  our  final 
parade  with  the  fireworks  finish,  and  it 
was  a  lallapalootza! 


^^&'7Tu:imm^, 


90 


I  M    FROxM    MISSOURI. 


w't 


€■ 


ft! 


First  came  the  Silver  Cornet  Baud, 
in  the  new  uniforms  Uncle  Peter  had 
bought  for  them,  and  the  way  they  blew 
Sousa  across  lots  and  showered  the 
community  with  rag-time  was  a  cau- 
tion. 

Then  followed  the  "  John  Henry 
Home  Guards,"  250  strong,  marching 
with  cape-mackintoshes,  plug  hats  and 
canes.  We  were  immense,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  three  or  four  dubs  who  had 
borrowed  top-pieces  too  small  for  their 
braineries,  and  who  had  to  break  ranks 
every  five  minrtes  to  coax  their  lids 
away  from  the  street-car  tracks. 

We  carried  transparencies  reading  as 
follows : 


PETER  GRANT  WILL  MAKE  OOOO  I 
BOOST   HIM    IN. 


» 


WHO   IS   PETER  GRANT'S 
OPPONENT? 

A  PIECE   OF  CHEESEI 


ik'm^M^m^ 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


91 


VOTE  FOR  THE  REAL  RINAKABOOI 
PROGRESSIVE   PETER  I 


WILL  WE   PASS   BILL  ORAY 
THE    ICE-PITCHER? 

OH,    MAYBEI 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON   AND 

PETER  GRANT 

NEVER  TOLD  A   LIE! 

DID   OLD   BILL  GRAY?     ASK   MEI 


REMEMBER  THE   MONROE   DOC- 
TRINE AND  VOTE   FOR 
PETER  GRANT  1 


Next  came  the  "  Peter  Grant 
Zouaves,"  consisting  of  Conrad  Puflfen- 
lotz,  four  assistant  hop-beaters  from  the 


92 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


4. 


^\/ 


brewery,  and  thirty-six  school  boys, 
not  one  of  whom  would  have  a  vote 
coming  to  him  for  at  least  twelve  years. 

But  the  Zouave  make-up  was  a  hot 
favorite  with  Uncle  Peter.  He  was  out 
to  have  a  splotch  of  color  in  that 
parade  no  matter  what  the  cost,  and  he 
got  his  wish. 

Following  the  Zouaves  came  the 
"  Martha  Grant  League  of  Helping 
Hands,"  consisting  of  Conrad's  wife, 
the  lady  friends  of  the  four  hopbeaters, 
Hank,  the  gardener's  wife,  and  enough 
of  Hank's  children  to  make  that  por- 
tion of  the  parade  look  like  the  recess 
hour  in  a  public  school. 

Lizzie  Joyce,  our  cook,  had  been  Id 
to  believe  by  some  unscrupulous  pers  m 
that  the  Hon.  William  Gray,  if  elected, 
would  introduce  the  Irish  eviction  gag 
into  Ruraldene.  So  the  parade  for 
Lizzie,  and  she  marched  among  the 
Helping  Hands  with  the  freckled  para- 
sol in  one  fist  and  in  the  other  a  trans- 
parency evidently  edited  by  Barney 
Doolin,  which  read: 


^^^ 


>J      j'lZ''  JLi'   ;-><*_ 


I'm    from    MISSOURI. 


93 


My  Chic*   For  mayor 

I*   Pste  grant 

the   ladles   Pet  an  pride  I 


It  certainly  was  a  tart  collection  of 
enthusiastic  pave  pounders  that 
marched  through  Ruraldene  that  even- 
ing and  whooped  it  up  for  the  Hon. 
Peter  Grant. 

The  Candidate,  with  his  wife  and 
niece  and  friends,  reviewed  the  parade 
from  the  "  Peter  Grant  headquarters  " 
in  town.  Then,  after  marching  around 
the  Hon.  William  Gray's  villa  three 
times,  with  the  band  playing  "  Your 
Neck  Is  a  Good  Place  To  Get  It,  Mr. 
Man!"  we  planted  our  transparencies 
deep  in  the  grassy  lawn  owned  by  the 
furious  Uncle  William,  and  with  Gabe 
Malone's  bull  dog  to  watch  them  we 
left  them  there  for  the  entertainment 
and  enlightenment  of  the  Opposition 
while  we  adjourned  to  the  little  River- 
side Park  for  the  fireworks  display. 

With    the    exception    of    a    roman 


ki 


"i    i 


1 

\ 


94 


I  M    FRDM    MlSSdLRI. 


I 


candle  that  sailed  into  Conrad  Puflfen- 
lotz,  and  after  knocking  at  his  dining- 
room  door  insisted  upon  doing  its  turn 
inside  his  Zouave  jacket,  the  fireworks 
were  shot  off  successfully,  and  the  day 
wound  up  in  a  blaze  of  glory. 

It  cost  our  Candidate  a  smart  bundle 
of  greens  to  feed  the  hungry  enthu- 
siasts and  dampen  all  those  thirsty 
voices,  but  at  the  finish  the  Gray  fac- 
tion had  been  chased  to  the  tall  grass, 
and  Bunch  Jefferson's  address  was 
Woozy  Boulevard,  Forestville,  in  the 
Woods. 

It  was  a  great  day  for  everything  in 
Ruraldene — except  Uncle  Peter's  bank 
account. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


JOHN  HENRY  MAKES  A  MAYOR. 


EARLY  Monday  morning  I  had 
a  satisfactory  interview  with 
the  Bubble  blower,  who  had 
come  on  from  New  York  to 
take  charge  of  our  new  auto  for  this 
particular  occasion. 

All  day  long  the  preparations  for  the 
joint  debate  went  forward  with  enthu- 
siasm, and  everything  moveable  in  the 
community  threatened  to  be  in  the  pub- 
lic square  when  the  gong  sounded. 

It  was  a  cinch  that  the  Candidate 
who  got  stage  fright,  or  failed  to  show 
up  at  the  joint  debate  would  get  all  his 
when  the  votes  were  counted. 

The    meeting    was    scheduled    for 
8  o'clock  and  by  7:20  the  Square  was 
packed  with  partisans  of  both  sides. 
Promptly  at  7:15  I  sent  our  auto 


imiiLj^.^m^'^'^^nt^ 


96 


I  M    IKUM    MISSOURI. 


"33 


with  the  imported  chauffeur  panting  up 
to  Uncle  William's  villa,  having  first 
assured  myself  that  iUinch  was  busy  at 
the  S(|uare. 

"  -Mr.  Jefferson  sent  me  after  you," 
my  agent  told  Uncle  William. 

■  lUit  Where's  our  own  conveyance?  " 
the  old  gentleman  inquired,  sus- 
piciously. 

"  Mr.  Jefferson  has  gone  to  get  the 
referee  and  didn't  want  you  to  be 
late,"  the  opposition  Candidate  was 
told  as  per  arrangement. 

"  Oh;  all  right,"  said  Uncle  William, 
climbing  into  the  auto,  and  with  this 
the  driver  headed  for  the  river  road 
and  was  off  like  a  scared  rabbit. 

"  Stop!  stop!  where  are  you  going?  " 
yelled  Uncle  William  as  they  shot  out 
of  town. 

"  Mr.  Jefferson  said  to  give  you 
some  fresh  air  so's  you  could  handle 
your  mitts  livelier  when  the  fight 
started,"  the  Bubble  tender  yelled  back, 
as  he  let  out  a  few  more  links  and 
burned  over  the  bridges. 


( 


1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


97 


"Mr.  Jefferson  is  a  jackass!"  shouted 
Uncle  William.  "  I've  been  doing 
notlnng  .11  day  but  getting  fresh  air. 
Take  nie  to  the  public  square  at  once, 
sir!  I  never  rode  at  this  speed  in  all 
my  life — stop  it!  stop  it!  " 

"Can't  do  it!"  said  the  brave 
stranger.  "  There's  something  wrong 
with  the  brake  valve — hold  fast!  here's 
a  hill!" 

Down  they  went  and  up  the  other 
side  and  on  and  on  for  miles,  Uncle 
William  yelling  for  the  cops  and  the 
Bubble  blower  bent  double  over  the 
steering  gear. 

Then  all  of  a  sudden  the  machine 
stopped  and  nearly  pitched  Uncle  Wil- 
liam overboard. 

"  Xow,"  squeaked  the  Opposition 
Candidate;  "I  hope  you're  satisfied 
that  I  have  fresh  air  enough.  Get  me 
back  to  town  at  once,  sir!  " 

"  Can't  do  it,"  moaned  the  splendid 
chauffeur. 

"Why  not?"  inquired  the  excited 
Uncle  William  looking  at  his  watch. 


IM    FROM    MISSOURI. 


M' 


'V 


"The  Bubble's  bust!"  groaned  that 
most  interesting  stranger. 

Uncle  William  let  a  yell  out  of  him 
that  set  the  trees  back  from  the  road- 
way. 

"  I'm  due  at  the  public  square  at 
eight  o'clock!"  he  fumed,  dancing 
around  the  machine. 

"  And  that's  about  eight  miles  from 
here  as  the  crow  flies,"  replied  my 
noble  emissary,  whereupon  Uncle  Wil- 
liam sat  down  by  the  darkened  road- 
side and  began  to  bite  the  night  air. 

In  the  meantime  the  platform  in  the 
public  square  groaningly  received  the 
committees,  the  bottle  holders  and  the 
referee. 

I  sat  next  to  the  chair  reserved  for 
Uncle  Peter  and  began  to  wonder  why 
he  didn't  put  in  an  appearance. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  platform 
Bunch  was  beginning  to  rubber  ner- 
vously, and  I  was  using  my  sleeve  to 
hold  a  fine  bundle  of  laughs. 

I  kneW;  within  a  few  miles,  where 
Uncle  William  was  about  this  time,  but 


{ 


1  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


99 


why   did   Uncle   Peter   delay   his   en- 
trance? 

Eight  o'clock  came  and  the  vast 
assemblage  was  called  to  order  by 
Squire  Thompson,  whose  duty  it  was 
to  introduce  the  opposing  candidates 
and  start  the  battle. 

The  Squire  made  his  little  speech  and 
sat  down  amid  great  applause. 

Then  silence  fell  and  everybody 
looked  at  everybody  else  uneasily. 

Where  were  the  two  Principals  T 

I  knew  that  Uncl^  William  was  about 
two  miles  furthe  v-ay  than  he  was 
the  last  time  I  ti  ught  of  him,  but 
where  was  Uncle  Peter  ? 

Presently  when  the  tension  became 
almost  unbearable  Bunch  JefT  rson 
arose  and  made  the  bluflf  of  his  life. 

"  Mr.  Chairman,  ladies  and  gentle- 
man," he  began,  as  he  took  an  old 
letter  from  his  coat  pocket,  "I  have  just 
received  a  note  from  Mr.  William  Gray 
in  which  he  states  that  an  extremely 
important  call  over  the  long-distance 
telephone  will  detain  him  at  home  for  a 


lOO 


I  M    FROM    MISSOL'RI. 


few  minutes.  In  the  meantime  oermit 
me  to  suggest  that  the  Hon.  Peter 
Grant  open  the  debate." 

Rimch  sat  down  amid  great  applause 
and  loud  cries  of  *'  Grant!    Go  at  him, 
Grant!  "filled  the  air. 
Then  I  saw  my  chance. 
The    Opposition    had    dropped    its 
guard  and  now  to  land  a  jolt. 

"  Mr.  Chairman  and  ladies  and 
gentleman,"  I  began  when  silence  was 
restored,  "  W'c  accept  without  hesita- 
tion the  excuse  put  forth  by  the  Hon. 
William  Gray's  spokesman.  I  am  em- 
powered to  state  that  in  deference  to 
the  opposing  Candidate's  maturer 
years  and  grayer  hairs  the  Hon.  Peter 
Grant  will  not  put  in  an  appearance  on 
this  platform  until  the  Hon.  VVilliatn 
Gray  is  first  seen  and  honored  by  his 
townspeople." 

A  thunderous  burst  of  applause  went 
up  and  Bunch  nearly  fainted. 

I  sent  four  of  our  committee  out  to 
head  oft  Uncle  Peter  and  explain 
matters,  and  when  I  tu-ned  around 


I 


1  M    FROM    MISSOL'KI. 


lOI 


Bunch  and  some  of  his  friends  had  dis- 
appeared. 

Presently  the  crowd  began  to  get 
impatient  and  cat-calls  filled  the  air. 
There  wasn't  anybody  on  the  platform 
with  nerve  enough  to  get  up  and  tear 
off  a  speech,  so  we  had  to  sit  there  an(, 
look  foolish. 

Bunch  was  back  in  ten  minutes  look- 
ing very  pale  and  excited,  while  the 
crowd  took  up  the  chorus:  "Gray! 
Gray!  why  do  you  stay  away?  " 

Some  of  my  scouts  returned  with  the 
news  that  no  trace  of  Uncle  Pef^i  could 
be  found,  and  I  began  to  wonder  what 
would  happen  if  the  crowd  called  upon 
me  to  produce  him. 

Half-past  eight  and  no  Candidates. 
Quarter  of  nine  and  no  Candidates. 
The  crowd  had  its  kidding  clothes  on 
by  this  time,  and  Bunch  was  handed 
some  pretty  lively  language,  but  he 
was  game  to  the  finish,  tliat  boy  was! 

At  nine  o'clock  the  crowd  had 
thinned  out  to  such  an  extent  that  the 
referee  got  up  and  went  home.    Gabe 


102 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


Malone  arose  to  address  what  was  left 
of  the  audience,  but  before  he  served 
a  half-portion  of  bad  grammar  some- 
body in  the  front  line  pointed  a  toy 
pistol  at  him,  and  he  did  a  back-flip  off 
the  platform  and  hiked  for  home. 

After  that  there  was  nothing  doing. 
At  9:30  only  a  few  night-hawks  re- 
mained of  the  once  great  audience. 
The  representatives  and  committees  on 
the  platf^fTi  dwindled  away  until  finally 
nobody  was  left  save  Bunch  and  I. 

I  looked  over  at  Bunch  from  time  to 
time  and  he  looked  over  at  me,  but  we 
never  cracked  a  smile. 

At  10  o'clock  we  still  sat  there,  but 
we  had  our  backs  to  each  other. 

At  10:10  the  audience  consisted  of 
one  sea-going  hack,  with  both  horse 
and  driver  asleep. 

The  hack  didn't  seem  to  care  what 
happened. 

At  10:15  we  arose,  handed  each 
other  the  laugh  and  went  home. 

Tlie  joint  debate  was  a  fizzle,  but  I 
had  a  shade  the  best  of  it. 


( 


We  had   our  backs 

to  each  ether.  —  Pace  102 


-, (.-..>!, 


'■Jfri^-;-' 


t^:< 


I 

J 


-^!V^'  ^?ir^ 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


103 


I  found  Aunt  Martha  and  Clara  J.  in 
tears  when  I  reached  the  villa. 

"  Poor  Uncle  Peter! "  sobbed  Clara 
J.;  "  oh!  where  is  he?  where  is  he?  " 

"  He's  been  assassinated,  I  know  it," 
Aunt  Martha  sobbed  back.  "  Oh,  that 
he  had  never  gone  into  politics!  " 

I  succeeded  in  calming  them  after  a 
time,  and  by  dint  of  much  questioning 
learned  that  two  strangers  had  called 
to  see  Uncle  Peter  on  very  urgent  busi- 
ness at  about  7:15,  and  that  the  trio 
had  started  off  hurriedly  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  river  road. 

Hank,  Barm/  Doolin  and  I  at 
once  took  a  lantern  and  followed  the 
trail. 

About  a  mile  from  the  villa  on  the 
bank  of  the  river  is  a  big  ice-house,  and 
as  we  approached  it  we  heard  the  most 
unearthly  yelling,  swearing  and  kicking 
of  boards. 

"  Sure,  it  sounds  like  the  ould  man 
whin  he's  excited!  "  cried  Barney  as  we 
unbolted  the  door. 

It  zvas  Uncle  Peter  who  stood  before 


ill 


h 


104 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


US,  a  sad  spectacle  in  the  lantern's  light. 
"The  villains!"  he  shouted;  "oh, 
John,  my  boy,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you! 
The  villains!  they  lured  me  down  here 
with  a  lying  story  that  I  could  see 
Bunch  Jefferson  teaching  a  lot  of 
Italian  floaters  how  to  vote! " 

I  leaned  against  the  ice-house  and 
nearly  choked. 

"  When  they  got  me  here  they  bolted 
the  door  on  i  ,"  Uncle  Peter  stormed, 
"  and  they  toll!  me,  the  villains,  not  to 
describe  anything  I  might  see  here  in 
my  speeches  against  the  Opposition. 
How  could  I  see  anything  in  this  damn 
old  ice-house?" 

When  I  told  him  all  about  the  joint 
debate  and  of  the  non-appearance  of 
the  Hon.  William  Gray  he  calmed 
down  at  once. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  kept  old  Bill 
Gray  away?"  Uncle  Peter  asked,  as 
we  walked  up  to  the  road. 

"  You  can  search  me,  Uncle  Peter," 
I  said  as  we  reached  the  fence  bv  the 


I 


I'm    from    MISSOURI. 


105 


road  just  as  an  automobile  came  chuck- 
chucking  painfully  along. 

We  waited  in  the  darkness  to  let  it 
go  by! 

As  it  passed  we  saw  an  agitated  old 
gentleman  in  the  rear  seat,  fuming  and 
fretting  and  urging  the  chauffeur  to 
hurry  on,  but  to  all  the  old  man's  plead- 
ings the  chauffeur  replied  stolidly,  "  I'm 
doin'  the  best  I  can;  the  Bubble's  bust." 
Oh!  noble  stranger!  What  would 
have  been  our  finish  without  you? 

"Great  Scott!"  exclaimed  Uncle 
Peter  as  the  mach-"ne  toiled  slowly  by, 
'*  it's  old  Bill  Gray,  or  his  ghost !  " 

Then  I  exploded  and  for  five  minutes 
I  rolled  around  on  the  grass  to  the 
amazement  of  the  puzzled  Uncle  Peter. 
"  Though  I  don't  pretend  to  under- 
stand the  ins  and  outs  of  politics," 
Uncle  Peter  said  when  we  finally 
reached  home,  "  still  I've  got  a  pretty 
sharp  eye,  and  I'm  not  going  to  ask  for 
any  particulars  as  to  why  old  Bill  Gray 
was  in  our  new  automobile,  but  I  would 
like  to  shake  your  hand,  John !  " 


y» 


,  "^j  r^ i^c:  v'simrxj'^^s^mm 


I 


io6 


I  M    rUOM    MISSOURI. 


t 


Then  we  held  a  family  reunion  and 
Uncle  Peter  showed  us  how  he  would 
have  lit  into  Uncle  William  at  the  pub- 
lic square — if  he  hadn't  been  locked  up 
in  the  ice-house. 

The  next  day  it  happened.  I  don't 
know  whether  it  was  Uncle  Peter's 
popularity  or  his  check  book  or  my 
speech  at  the  joint  debate — but,  any- 
way, he  was  elected  by  a  tidy  majority, 
and  he  was  the  happiest  old  soul  in 
sixty-four  States. 

In  the  midst  of  our  rejoicings  that 
Tuesday  evening  a  messenger  brought 
me  a  note.  I  read  it  to  our  assembled 
friends  to  the  accompaniment  of  much 
applause: 

Ruraldene,  Tuesday. 

My  dear  John:  Now  that  the  cruel 
war  is  over  let  me  be  among  the  first 
to  congratulate  Uncle  Peter  and  you. 
1 1  may  interest  you  to  know  that  in 
spite  of  defeat  Mr.  Gray  has  expressed 
himself  as  being  well  pleased  with  my 
work  during  the  campaign.  His  ap- 
proval will  take  the  form  of  a  wedding 
in  January,  and  on  that  occasion  Alice 


I  M    FROM    MISSOURI. 


t07 


and  I  will  be  the  Candidates.  I  forgive 
you  everything  including  "  My  Advice 
to  Society,"  but  do  tell  me  where  you 
found  that  chauffeur  who  insisted  upon 
giving  Uncle  William  so  much  fresh 
air!  I  feel  sure  that  Uncle  Peter's  trip 
to  the  ice-house  will  be  forgotten  in  his 
triumphal  procession  to  the  Mayor's 
office. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Bunch  Jefferson. 

"Umph!"  said  Uncle  Peter,  "I 
always  did  like  that  boy,  Bunch!  " 

"  He's  the  real  goods,"  I  agreed. 

"  I  wonder  what  I'll  wear  at  the 
wedding! "  mused  Peaches. 


}; 


THE   END. 


I 

-,  i 


^ 


s. 


(ist. 


w^J.<''~''~3'\ 


^^, 
^ 


V,'-.  ■  ' 


r 


HUGH  McHUGH'S 

SEVEN  FAMOUS  BOOKS 

Over  445.000  Copies  Sold 

"VM  FROM   MISSOURI" 

FIRST  EDITION  30,000  COPIES 

"I  NEED  THE  MONEY" 

35,000   COPIES    SOLO 

"OUT  FOR  THE  COIN" 

50,000  COPIES  SOLO 

"BACK  TO  THE  WOODS" 

60,000  COPIES  SOLD 

"IT'S  UP  TO  YOU  I" 

70,000  COPIES  SOLD 

•♦DOWN  THE  LINE 

WITH  JOHN  HENRY" 

75,000  COPIES  SOLD 

"JOHN   HENRY" 

145,000  COPIES  SOLO 

The  Seven  Books  are  niostfated.    Qoth  Bound 
Gilt  Top,  75  Cents  Each 

POSTAOB  PJItBB,  on  receipt  of  prk»  by 

Q.  W,  DILLINQHAM  CO.,  PubHshers 
ii9-iai  West  ajd  St.,  New  York 


'*!  NEED  THE  MONEY"  wu  i  bij 
winner  from  the  jump.  The  intcrot  taken 
in  the  Series  of  "John  Henry"  books  by  the 
general  public  b  really  remarkable. 


CONTENTS  OF 
•I   NEED  THE   MONEY.' 


fr\ 


JOHN   HENRY'S  PAL. 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PLAN. 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PICNIC. 
JOHN   HENRY'S    "LUNGE. 
JOHN   HENRY'S  PIPE. 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PILGRlMi 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PIE. 


What  the  Critics  Say. 

The  author  of  "  I  Need  the  Money,"  the  new 
"  John  Henry  "  book,  who  is  George  V.  Hobart, 
a  former  Baltimore  newspaper  man,  is,  beyond 
doubt,  one  of  the  most  popular  of  modern  slang 
bumorisU;  more  so,  probably,  than  Ade,  and 
with  his  "  Dinkelspiel "  stufi  ilmost  as  much  as 
Dnnat.—Brocifyn  EagU. 

George  V.  Hobart,  the  New  York  journalist, 
is  a  versatile  humorist.  As  "Dinkelspiel"  he  is  an 
irresistibly  funny  German,  full  of  philosophy  but 
hopelessly  tangled  in  his  rhetoric.  As  the  author 
"John  Henry"  and  other  humorous  productions 
he  has  been  an  acute  man  of  the  street  and  of 
the  rapid  avenues  of  life  with  all  the  up-to- 
dateness  of  slang  that  is  one  of  the  chief  con- 
comitants of  such  worldly  wisdom.  Mr.  Hobart 
therefore  has  strings  enough  to  his  bow  to 
warrant  the  prediction  that  he  will  wear  much 
longer  than  the  average  funny  man  has  lasted 
under  the  strain  of  humor  to  order.  The  G.  W. 
Dillingham  Company  has  just  issued  a  volume  of 
"Eppy  Grams  by  Dinkelspiel"  that  is  full  of 
laugh  from  cover  to  cover,  and  another  ' '  John 
Henry"  book,  entitled  "  I  Need  the  Money,"  in 
which  readers  can  find  delight  in  Mr.  Hobart's 
humor  in  the  other  vein.  The  pages  of  the 
"  Dinkelspiel "  book  are  brightened  with  borders 
of  red,  and  the  other  book  is  illustrated. 

—Milwauket  fVisecHsin, 
3 


"  I  Need  the  Money,"  the  lUth  of  the  "  Hugh 
McHugh"  books,  is  capital,  like  its  fellows. 
The  laugh  lies  beneath  the  bewildering  fantastics 
of  slang.  It  cannot  be  analyzed,  for  really  there 
is  nothing  tangible  to  account  for  the  laugh  save 
the  surprise  of  the  delightful  argot.  For 
example,  some  people  may  not  think  it  funny  to 
read  of  six-story  flats  with  lo  x  la  rooms  as 
"people-coops."  Others  with  livelier  imagina- 
tions  will  hold  their  sides  over  this. 

— San  Francisco  Call. 


Mi 


1 
t 


The  latest  of  the  "John  Henry"  books  has 
the  title.  "I  Need  the  Money."  which  seems  to 
be  attractive  enough  for  a  much  larger  book. 
These  little  volumes,  of  which  two  appear  every 
year,  have  had  a  circulation  such  as  to  make  the 
mouths  of  the  standard  novelists  water.  They 
are  to  be  found  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  and 
the  author's  large  profits  are  justified,  because  he 
has  given  the  people  something  they  want, 
•.omething  they  can  appreciate,  and  particularly 
something  they  can  enjoy.  In  the  preface  he 
announces  a  sale  of  over  400,000  of  the  first  five 
volumes,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  the  sixth 
should  not  make  a  record.  It  is  one  of  "  Hugh 
McHugh's"  agreeable  tales,  told  with  much 
dash  and  appropriately  illustrated  with  a  lot  of 
character  heads.  The  sort  of  book  to  pick  ap 
and  enjoy  at  any  imt.— Philadelphia  Inquirer. 
4 


VI 


No  matter  how  bad  "John  Henry's  "  predica- 
ment  may  be.  he  has  the  happy  faculty  of  seeing 
»  bright,  which  means  a  humorous,  side.  Cer- 
tainly  he  gets  into  difficulties  In  "Hugh 
McHugh's"  latest  book  about  him.  "I  Need 
the  Money."  but  in  no  volume  of  the  series  is 
"  John  Henry  •  more  persistently  and  amusingly 
jolly.— AVtt-ari  Ntws. 

George  V.  Hobart.  atiat  "  Dinkelspiel."  has 
in  the  "John  Henry"  books,  given  us  some  of 
the  best  and  most  spontaneous  humor  of  the 


J0HN  HENRY.  Hugh  McHujh's 
first  b«ok,  reached  the  25,008 
mark  two  weeks  after  it  was 
published.  It*s  popularity  sioce 
then  has  been  unprecedented. 

"  John  Henry's  philosophy  is  of  the  most 
approved  up-to-date  brand.  He  is  by  all 
odds  a  young  man  of  the  eiiod;  he  is  a 
man  about  town.  He  is  slang  artist;  a 
painter  of  recherche  phrases;  a  maker 'of 
tart  Americanisms. 

In  this  book— it  is  "little,  but  oh  my!"— 
John  Henry  recounts  some    of   his  adven- 
tures about  town,  and  he  interlards  his  des- 
criptive passages  with  impressive  comments 
on  the  men,  women,  institutions,  and  places, 
brought  within  his  observant  notice.     We 
need  not  say  that  his  comments  are  highly- 
colored;  nor  that  his  descriptions  are  r' 
markable  for  expressiveness  and  colloquial 
piquancy.    Mr.  Henry  is  a  sort  of  refined 
and  sublimated  type  of  "Chimmie  Fadden," 
though  there  is  by  no  means  anything  of  the 
gamin  about  him.    He  doesn't  speak  in  rich 
coster  dialect  such  as  is  used  by  Mr.  Town- 
send's  famous  character,  nor  is  he  a  mem- 

\ 


I 


^ 


kcr  of  the  same  social  set  as  the  popular 
hero  of  the  New  York  slums.  Mr.  Henry 
moves  on  a  higher  plane,  he  uses  good 
English— mostly  in  tart  superlatives— and 
his  associates  are  of  a  high  social  scale. 

Mr.  Henry's  adventures  as  he  describes 
them  iiere  will  make  you  wonder  and  make 
you  laugh. 

His  book  abounds  in  bon-mots  of  slang; 
of  the  kind  you  hear  in  the  theatres  when 
the  end-men,  comedians  and  monologuists 
are  at  their  wittiest  and  best,  when  they 
revel  in  mad  and  merry  extravagances  of 
speech  and  experience. 

It  is  an  art  to  use  street-talk  with  force 
and  terseness,  and  although  it  isn't  the  most 
elegant  phase  of  the  Queen's  English  it 
nevertheless  impresses  to  the  Queen's  taste. 
Hugh  McHugh  has  this  art"— Philadelphia 
Item. 

"  John  Henry  "  is  only  one  of  the  numer- 
ous young  men  who  are  treating  the  public 
to  the  latest  slang  through  the  medium  of 
print  nowadays,  but  he,  unlike  most  of  the 
others,  is  original  in  his  phrases,  has  the 
strong  support  of  the  unexpected  in  his  hu- 
mor and  causes  many  a  good  laugh.  For 
one  thing,  he  merely  tries  to  make  fun, 
wiselv  avoiding  the  dangers  of  tediousness 


In  endeavoring  to  utter  immature  wisdom  in 
the  language  of  the  brainless. 

"  The  author,  Huph  McHugh,  is  thought 
to  be  Mr.  George  V.  Hobart.  Certain  it  is 
that  the  writer  is  a  Ealtimorean,  past  or 
present;  the  local  references  evidence  that. 
In  some  places  the  expressions  have  the 
Hobart  ring  to  them.  But  if  Mr.  Hobart 
did  write  the  stories,  he  has  done  his  best 
work  of  the  kind  yet."— Baltimore  Herald. 

"The  hu-.ior  is  of  the  spontaneous  sort 
that  runs  close  to  truth,  and  it  affords  many 
a  hearty  liugh."— Cleveland  World. 

"As  a  study  in  slang  it  surpasses  any- 
thing since  the  days  of  '  Artie.'  "—The 
Rocky  Mountain  Ncwa. 

"  Written  in  the  choicest  slang."— Detroit 
Free  Press. 

"John  Henry."  A  regular  siJe-splitter, 
and  as  good  as  '*  Billy  Baxter."— A'^zi;  York 
Press. 


"  It  is  as  good  as  any  of  the  books  of  its 
kind,  better  than  most  of  them,  and  is 
funny  without  being  coarse."— i^or/aff 
Rigister. 


•«  Down  The  Line  With  John  Hcniy  ■^ 
b  the  second  of  the  **  John  Henry" 
books  and  quickly  followed  its  pro- 
decessor  alonj  the  hij^hroad  of 
success. 

rhe  story  of  "John  Henry  at  the 
Races  "  in  "  Down  The  Line  "  has 
already  ^rown  to  be  a  Classic  in 
Slan^.  It  is  brimful  of  human 
nature  and  is  amusing  in  the  high- 
est decree. 


CONTENTS  OF  "DOWN  THB 
LINE." 

JOHN  HENRY  AT  THE  RACES 
JOHN  HENRY  AND  THE  DRUMMERS. 
JOHN  HENRY  IN  BOHEMIA. 
JOHN  HENRY  AND  THE  HOTEL  CLBMC 
JOHN  HENRY  AND  THE  BENZINE  BUOftT, 
JOHN  HENRY  AT  THE  M  JSICALB. 
JOHK  HENRY  PLAYS  GOLF 
!v 


'"Down  the  Line'  is  one  good  laugh  from 
cover  to  cover,  and  some  of  the  experiences  of 
this  clever  man  are  both  amusing  and  interest- 
ing. The  book  is  illustrated  with  some  clever 
sketches  by  McKee  Barclay."—^/.  Louis  Star. 


J^  J^  j^ 


**  As  in  the  former  volume,  the  present  col- 
lection of  stories  is  concerned  with  adventures  of 
a  man  about  town.  It  abounds  in  the  weirdest 
and  nev/est  slang,  recherche  expressions  and  tart 
Americanisms.  There  is  much  clever  satire  on 
the  manners,  and  habits  of  Americans.  The 
'down-to-date'  man  who  is  fond  of  slang  will 
fiiid  in  the  volume  a  new  supply  for  his  vocab* 
ular>'." — Los  Angeles  Express. 


^^     ^^V     ^^V 

"In  order  to  enjoy  it  you  have  got  to  tackle 
it  like  Wagner  and  chain  yourself  down  for  three 
or  four  sittings,  and  then  you  are  en  rapport,  so 
to  speak.  Come  again,  Jonathan!"— Z'rtJZ'irr 
Republican. 

V 


*f::*«*  •'•<««. 


•*  lt*8  Up  to  You  1"  is  the  third  book 
io  the  Joha  Henry  series.  This 
story  of  domestic  bliss  relates 
the  adventures  of  John  Henry  dur- 
ing his  courtship  and  marriage. 

*'  It's  Up  to  You ! "  has  been  pro- 
nounced by  critics  everywhere 
the  funniest  book  of  the  year. 

It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  there 
is  a  laugh  in  every  line  for  this 
fact  is  amply  demonstrated  by  the 
enormous  demand  for  the  book. 

CONTENTS  OF  "ITS  UP  TO 
YOU  I" 


JOHN  HENRY  S  COURTSHIP. 

JOHN  henry's  wedding. 

JOHN  henry's  honeymoon  TRIP. 

JOHN  henry's  seashore  VISIT. 

JOHN  HENRY  HUNTS  A  FLAT. 

JOHN  HENRY  ENTERTAINS  FRIENDS 

JOHN  HENRY  PLAYS  PING  PO»'G. 


"•It's  Up  to  You*  stares  out  from  tke 
yellow  cover.  From  a  mere  passing  sight 
at  the  familiar  cheese-cloth  binding  and  the 
portrait  of  the  faultless  gentleman  in  the 
choker,  one  might  easily  think  it  was  an 
old  wandering  copy  of  the  original  'John 
Henry ' ;  one  hardly  dares  hope  it  is  a  new 
edition  of  that  worthy's  confidence.  But 
it  is.  And  John  Henry  stabs  us  with  his 
sentiment.  He  commences  :  '  Seven  of  us 
were  entered  in  the  race  for  Clara  J.'s 
affections.'  Then  he  delightfully  tells  us 
how  he  won  out  from  the  'other  six  society 
shines.'  The  chapter  explaining  his  method 
of  dragging  papa's  and  mama's  consent 
away  from  them  is  clogged  with  many 
smiles,  and  before  the  finish  of  the  honey- 
moon trip,  the  •  holler '  is  certainly  '  Up  to 
Yon !  •  After  a  bit  John  Henry  hunts  a  flat. 
The  finding  of  the  flat  is  the  richest  slice 
of  the  book.  He  does  more — he  lives  in 
it — with  the  consent  of  the  folks  above  and 
below;  he  entertains  and  concludes  the 
third  little  volume  of  his  spicy  adventures 
with  a  game  of  ping-pong.  Now,  never 
mind — All  men  make  mistakes. 

"  V/e  have  not  heard  near  so  much  about 
John  Henry  as  we  have  of  ping-pong ;  we 
sin^^rely  hope  to  learn  more  of  the  former, 


"1 


I 


Vli 


•A 


■■i 

f 


and  we  fervently  pray  to  be  delivertnt  from 
the  latter.  However,  in  the  midst  of  ^ 
PlagT^e.  the  ha  f  million  special  newspa-J 
scnbes  who  issue  a  column  of  unintellSble 
rot  da.iy  concerning  the  silly  game  should 
each  secure  a  copy  of  •  Its  Up  to  You  '  and 
learn  how  to  write  descriptions  of  ping, 
pong.  It  IS  there  with  all  the  lucidity  of  a 
press  pr,ze  fight  story.     If  you  must  rfng  in 

tmtt^rn:'"^'^"--'^^^^^^^^^ 

••There  is  nothing  very  long,  or  broad 
or  deep  in  the  John  Henry  books.  A  man 
who  attempts  to  criticise  a  hearty  laugh 
wastes  h,s  time,  besides  betraying  his  lack 

o  'loh^  h''^°'"  ^^'« '^-^  hearfthe  tales 
Of  John  Henry  were  often  written  in  a 
«=gle  night,  and  that  their  first  mission 
was  to  advertise  certam  other  things,  but 
we  will  gladly  say  nothing  about  it.  Thev 
are  a  decided  success;  they  are  not  copied 
of  things  we  have  read  before;  they  are  the 
Severest  bits  of  writing  yet  received  from 
the  pen  of  George  V.  Hobart.  Let  us  hope 
ttat  the  train  boys  will  not  stop  selline 


▼ffi 


i 
i 


*'  Back  to  the  Woods/*  the 
fourth  of  the  John  Henry 
series,  is  without  exag' 
geration  one  hearty  laugh 
from  cover  to  cover.  The 
cleverly  conceived  plot  and 
the  extremely  comic  inci- 
dents in  this  book  form 
the  basis  of  the  *'John 
Henry"  play  now  so 
successfully  touring  the 
United  States. 

CONTENTS  OF  "BACK  TO  THE 
WOODS." 


JOHN   henry's   lucky   DAYS. 
JOHN   henry's   ghost   STORY. 
JOHN  henry's  burglar. 
JOHN   henry's  COUNTRY   COP. 
JOHN  henry's  telegram. 
JOHN  henry's  two  QUEENS. 
JOHN  HENRY  S  HAPPY  HOME. 

ix 


"This  new  'John  Henry*  book  is  really 
the  best  of  the  four  written  and  further  por- 
trays the  fortunes  and  misfortunes  of  John 
Henry,  Clara  Jane,  Uncle  Peter,  Bunch, 
Aunt  Martha  and  T&c\is."—New  England 
Staliontr, 

"  The  many  friends  of  John  Henry  will 
warmly  welcome  his  reappearance  in  the 
pages  of  Hugh  McHugh's  latest  yarn,  "  Back 
to  the  Woods."  His  thoroughly  up-to-date 
slang  and  infectious  humor  have  lost  nothing 
of  their  freshness  since  this  breezy  man 
about  town  was  last  with  wsV—Xewark 
News. 

"  We  will  wager  that  over  the  whole  story 
the  reader  will  laugh  his  money's  worth.  A 
small,  well  charged,  effective  book."— ^-w- 
ning  Sun. 

"Back  to  the  Woods,"  the  story  of  a  fall 
from  grace,  which  for  effervescent  humor 
and  sparkling  wit,  quaint  and  original  twists 
of  satire  and  ludicrous  situations  is  so  far 
superior  to  like  late  books  as  to  justly  merit 
being  regarded  as  a  classic  in  up-to-date 
slang."— iV.  Y.  American. 


i  \ 


"  OHt  for  the  Coin  **  the  fifth  io 
the  John  Henry  series  was  re* 
ceived  with  shouts  of  approval. 
It  made  new  friends  on  sight. 

CONTENTS  OF  "OUT  FOR  THE 
COIN." 

JOHN  HENRY    AND    WALL    STREET. 

JOHN  HENRY  AND  THE   HORSE  TRAINER. 

JOHN  HENRY  AND  THE  SOUSE  THING. 

JOHN  HENRY  AND  THE  TWO  DIPPY  BOYS. 

JOHN  HENRY   AND  THE  ORPHAN   SKATES. 

JOHN  HENRY   AND  THE   BIG  RACE. 

JOHN  HENRY   AND  THE   STRONG   FINISH. 

KIND  WORDS  CAN  NEVER  DIE. 

George  V.  Hobart,  alias  "Hugh  Mc- 
Hugh,"  the  author  of  the  "John  Henry" 
books,  has,  in  a  very  short  time,  made  re- 
markable progress  toward  the  top  of  the 
ladder  to  the  rungs  of  which  American  hu- 
morists are  clinging.  Billy  Baxter  and  Chim- 
mie  Fadden — even  Mr.  Dooley  himself — 
find  themselves  required  to  hold  tight  with 
both  hands  and  climb  with  might  and  main 
to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  John  Henry.  In- 
deed, it  is  safe  to  say  that  as  an  exponent 


of  Amcrtcan  slang  Jol,,,  llc„ry  is  fir,t  md 
his  compeers  are  fiRhting  for  second,  third 
and  fourth.  The  John  -letiry  slang  j.  so 
slangy  ,t  .>  classical.  A.id  it  is  delicioiisjy 
and  absurdly  funny. 

The  latest  of  the  John  Henry  bucks  is 
Out  for  the  Coi,,."  Hobart  is  fortunate, 
and  almost  unique  among  present  day 
funny  men"-i„  that  the  more  he  writes 
the  funnier  he  gets.  Age  cannot  wither  nor 
custom  stale  his  infinite  variety.  None  of 
his  "stuflf"  is  "boiler  plate"  nor  "tiller"-  it 
IS  all  good-all  the  very  best  of  its  kind 

"Out  for  the  Coin"  can  be  read  in  an 
hour-or  less.  It  is  little,  but  oh,  mv '  It 
tells  about  Wall  street,  horses,  and  'horse 
races  in  the  choicest  slang.  Every  line  is 
s  angy-half  the  words  are  so-and,  to  the 
Uestern  culture,  at  all  events,  every  bit  of 
It  IS  new.  Put  "Out  for  the  Coin"'  on  the 
list  of  books  you  are  going  to  buy— or  bor- 
row—if you  enjoy  the  vernacular  in  new 
guise  and  humor  that  is  rare  and  racy  — 
Omaha  IVorld-Hcrald. 

A  sparkling  little  comedy  in  -lang  is  John 
Henry's  latest  adventure,  "Out  for  the 
Coin." 

"John  Henry"  is  too  well  known  to  the 


zii 


m^ax 


I 


reading  public  to  need  an  introduction.  To 
say  he  is  here  again  means  there  will  be  a 
rush  of  his  old  friends  and  a  statiipede  of 
new  ones  to  meet  him. 

He  is  one  of  those  celebrities  everyone 
wants  to  know,  not  only  because  one  likes 
to  speak  of  such  acquaintances,  but  because 
one  thoroughly  enjoys  his  compan>. 

This  time  in  his  jolly  encounter  with  life, 
he  gets  tangled  up  with  Wall  street  and  the 
race  track— a  combination  calculated  to 
break  almost  anyone— in  spirit  as  well  as 
pocketbook.  But  he  goes  through  it  with 
his  usual  cheerful  serenity,  and  comes  out 
a  winner. 

That  he  sees  more  humor  in  the  situation 
than  anyone  else  could  '  nd,  goes  without 
saying.  It  is  a  smile,  a  chuckle,  a  laugh 
from  cover  to  cover. 

His  classical  slang,  if  one  might  so  call  it, 
brings  mental  ejaculations  of  "clever"  every 
other  page.  There  is  nothing  forced  about 
it.  Capitals  are  not  needed  to  impress  its 
point.  It  is  absolutely  natural,  absolutely 
original  and  absolutely  funny.  The  most 
familiar  things  come  up  in  this  dress,  and 
while  saying  "How  do"  in  a  friendly  way, 
make  you  chuckle  at  their  clever  new  garb. 
—Philadelphia  Evening  Telegraph. 


xiii 


!f^ 


-  '^•V.l^-*?*-*:"*''^^''  * 


:i  I 


The  latest  and  the  best  of  the.  John  Henry 
books   is   "Out   for  the   Coin,"  from  the 
presses  of  the  Dillingham  Company  of  New 
York.    In  "Out  for  the  Coin"  you  see  John 
Henry  at  his  best.    Here  is  some  of  the  most 
delightfully  appropriate  and  original  slang 
and  some  of  the  most  pleasing  situations 
Hugh  McHugh  has  yet  produced.    The  au- 
thor describes  a  modern  horse  race  in  a 
manner  that  rivals  the  chariot  race  descrip- 
tion in  "Ben  Hur"— the  story  of  the  race  is 
so  well  told  with  the  aid  of  a  negro  by- 
stander that  one  almost  feels  compelled  to 
throw  his  hat  into  the  air  and  cheer  the 
winner.     Those   who  are   following  John 
Henry's  career  look  forward  to  Mr.  Mc- 
Hugh's  books  as  they  look  forward  toward 
vacation  time,  and  if  Mr.  McHugh  can  al- 
ways write  as  he  has  written  in  "Out  for 
the  Coin,"  he  will  never  want  for  a  big 
and    appreciative    following.— /ndiano^o/w 
Sentinel. 


I 


I  i 


i  « 


^mm^^:^2miis^mm^^^ 


•■JOI 


'.CT*^^:! 


